Ageless chola of glaciers and scuttling roaches
Your Andean splendors awaken my heart.
Still seeking a summit, your coldness reproaches;
So little I know you—in whole or in part.
Now that winter recedes as the springtime encroaches
I hope for a greening of sorcery’s art.
Lighten up, dark enchantress of icy approaches;
Let the ice-caps melt and the warming start . . .
Will another bad sonnet addressed to her highness
Allow for a thaw to begin in her soul?
Get over your winter of taciturn shyness!
Or is frozen entombment your element, witch?
This old necrophile waits for a smile (or a twitch).
I would marry your corpse—but mere friendship’s my goal.