Crepuscular Contrasts

Berries contrast with snow drifts and so strike
The subtle tissue of red memories;  
My pain builds up with art; while your delight  
Is bound to my slow heartbeat; let me please  
With breath and skin and voice and, yes, with mind,    
That conjures with these contrasts, as thoughts stray  
Back to the snow that drifts until I'm blind  
To memories of how we used to play.  
   
You say you cannot wait to dream and sleep;  
I say who needs to sleep, let reveries  
Be fashioned in the darkness as we keep  
Our fucking faith with wanton memories,    
That, in themselves, like love and lust, will last;  
And, like your latest strike, sow new contrasts...