Icebergs

I watch beauty drift away on icebergs
see a doomed survivor last a moment

My thoughts are frozen screams
when my dreams of rescue are futile
and I speak with slow motion cream
like flotsam on foamy white waves

Mostly the chill of my face
is too ugly to observe in person

but in the ice cream of my words
many find cherries and berries, and

I am often delicious by the pint, and
when someone has a “brain freeze”
I giggle a little and think to myself:
if only you knew how slowly I would melt
if you thought I was cool in your arms
and was your precious observant dessert
just a little tart, just a little sweet, and
jumping from icebergs onto your ship

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