JACK FROST'S KISS
​

Hard then soft, laced with sugar,
Tempting enough to eat,
As it folds against my teeth,
And melts against my gums.

The fresh scent of sharp green,
Bites like winter’s wind,
It’s frosted needles brush across
My icy, snow-tipped skin.

When the wind dies down,
A chill startles me.
When my breath picks up,
A breeze seizes me.

My stiff, mint-striped gum,
Goes click, clack, cluck,
Then snaps and bursts
From its bubble pop.

It’s here I stand beneath the sprig,
Of mistletoe and mint,
As I wait for my next kiss,
To warm my frost-touched lips.