And She Loved Me

She loved fresh snow
The crunch of it
Beneath her boots
Its frigid cling
Its brilliant purity
Decorating her dark lashes
And falling down
Her graceful form.

She loved hot chocolate
Its warmth
In a winter mug
Its molten trace
Over her tongue
And down her throat.

She loved sunlight
Glazed in orange and gold
Across fields
Corduroyed ankle-high
In remnants of corn stalks
And broken shoots
Of autumn wheat.

She loved the brace
Of frigid winds
When we walked
Over bridges
Beneath which
Broken ice flows
Patterned sleepy streams.

She love the mingle
Of our exhalations
Crystallizing
In arctic temperatures.

She loved the lure
Of warm blankets
Awaiting
In quiet hours
And tender arms
Devoted to her care.

And she loved me.

She loved that I loved her
That I studied
Every random thought
Half-smile
Soft sigh
And starlight
Dancing in her iris.

She loved that I understood
Her private musing
Knew her mind
Allowed her timidity
And celebrated her
Private wantonness.

She loved that I despised cold
Pretending to relish
The same snows
In which she rejoiced.

She was a mystery
A puzzle past solving
A rare treasure
A joy forever...

And she loved me.