Iceblue nude

sometimes when i think of you
the memory is through and through
like a bullet missing bone
something dark and all alone

like a statue made of snow
temporary, i should know
solid ice, it looks like you
a work of art, carved in blue

carved in blue, chipped away
i work upon it, every day
perhaps i'll finish sometime soon
or wait until the next bluemoon. . .

2006