she doesn't love me as i love her,
yet i haven't kissed--
"�pones roja!" she says with dye in her hand
as i pat one of our snow dwarves.
koolaid seeps into the ice/
winter breath escapes her lips/
my eyes flee to the red inside me.
she twists the bottle tight, takes out another.
i hear, instead, honesty in her eyes--
"�pones verde!"
i let her green eyes snatch my brown
(why not be warmer?)
as she lets me pour :
"suave� asi y......asi."
life: red here green here white there newness.
from a snapped twig she places a cross
on the next snow figure, a heart for aaron.
she doesn't seek her own warmth,
yet i haven't kissed the sun.