Magnetic Fields

A snowflake falls,
a dick flops out,
across the globe
the headlines shout

about hot weather.
Let it come.
Right now I hold
a chilly bum.

My compass spins.
You do not speak.
You seem to wink.
I kiss each cheek.

These data points
remove all doubt:
The Northern lights
shine in the South.

The huskies pant,
the sled we ride
glides through the wastes
where love resides:

magnetic fields,
electric folds,
which congregate
beneath our poles.