black raven upon frost white roof,
though it is not black.
sun is high in the addicted sky,
though it is coming down.
raven is brown and blood red.
raven is purple and
luxuriously bruised blue.
sky is naked today,
its erotic infinite belly stunned
in the sun’s hungry hands.
we all feel starved for touch.
pandemic and rainforest;
introvert or extrovert
our skin lacks from contact.
today i am not touched,
no, though
i am kissed.
ambling walks,
i am no mountain climber,
along ocean’s edge,
the sun so kind in its firing.
this sun,
though risen,
failing to warm
this section of earth
enough to allow raven’s roof
a retreat from its icing.
raven is black
upon its frost white surface.
raven is bruise purple.
raven is blood red.
sky is an addict,
my mind sips
at its narcotic nectar,
as though through a straw.
zakschafer.com 