SNOW WHITE: THE SEQUEL

That night they went to bed in air
swollen from the light of street lamps.

They embraced: they would make love,
they would be forever warmed.

They kissed. The sky flared.
He moved over her body like a priest
removing a curse.

In the morning, deep within the drift,
they listened for silence
but the city crunched and roared;
the plants, green as before,
shivered in the open window.
A few flurries spun to the dry pavement.