Two treatisi on ice

i.
the dark visits you with a wish
of cut, a

temporary appeasement, a drab
opening of

oblong effusiveness, ostriched
possibility

and the brim of dawn, the drip
of bland ice.

ii.

we caress the lip of morning 
with ice as the pink of it is downed with feather with ice as the loom of it is stung with nice and a little plum
     we tomb the tank of heaven roam in circles of pity grope the pier of now we 
     caress with
     ice