Songs of Ice and Fire

Hold your soul open for my welcoming. 
Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me 
With its clear and rippled coolness, 
That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest, 
Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory. 

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me, 
That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire, 
The life and joy of tongues of flame, 
And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune, 
I may rouse the blear-eyed world, 
And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

My cup is empty to-night, 
Cold and dry are its sides, 
Chilled by the wind from the open window. 
Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. 
The room is filled with the strange scent 
Of wistaria blossoms. 
They sway in the moon's radiance 
And tap against the wall. 
But the cup of my heart is still, 
And cold, and empty. 

When you come, it brims 
Red and trembling with blood, 
Heart's blood for your drinking; 
To fill your mouth with love 
And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.

You are ice and fire,
The touch of you burns my hands like snow.
You are cold and flame.
You are the crimson of amaryllis, 
The silver of moon-touched magnolias.
When I am with you, My heart is a frozen pond
Gleaming with agitated torches.