A mysterious Summer has slept on her duvet

A mysterious Summer has slept on her duvet 
like a cheshire cat chatting gibberish
with a yellow ochre tongue perched 
on a blanket of blue whiskey, poured over a dream
ceasing as the morning comes
to begin the endings that began when she was born
but kept up the pace of being around to soak it all in
like a garnet eats the light.
A mysterious Siberia whispers a scarlet moon
racing over thighs and cheekbones
long before the world leaves a cardboard box
at her doorstep.
long before her winters ate the song
she never knew.

And then again.