beautiful soul

Three a.m., icy wind whips open
a borrowed coat while
black heels dance on frosted cement
crystallized sculptures birthed
in the morning of newness.
The world stops
time and people vanish as
I am pulled
by touch or some magical magnetism
into the enigma of you
and this early morning beauty.
Mirrored image arises
in a puddle of icy blackness
painting the newness
and intoxication of
your beautiful soul.