Heidi

When the winter comes
Heidi’s skin is unveiled,
pink, desirable 
like soft, warm snow
if you could walk on it
your feet would sink
happily.
As I passed Heidy in the school corridors
the winter flees from her pores
her sweat, her flesh.
I would slide my palm
over her back as a schoolgirl
brushes her fingers along 
the iron school railings.
As I shiver in the classroom
I contemplate her naked flesh,
 her rounded arms 
 her skinfolds, her armpits
her linear neck. 
I envy her nakedness in front of the
roaring wind.
The fastened coats,
the heater and the frost are vile.
If you could sit beside Heidi's
her pink flesh would devour you
whole
in an instant 
like a whale persistently 
breathing air.