Lost Poem.

I thought this was lost but I found it today. I think it's one of the best things I ever wrote. It's from my Flatland Blues collection.

Sometimes it's so good that afterwards it's revelatory
Synapses firing at random, little sunbursting neurons flashing in the liquid darkness of the post coital mind
and there we were
and it was winter
and outside there was snow from a blizzard only the day before
and while the sky was dark the snow lit the night
casting a blue light over everything
that blue light that feels like loneliness and home and peace
that sub-arctic light that feels like an aurora passing through bone
and you lay there afterwards
lit all snow blue and smooth as a matisse
just form and light
warm with the blankets cast off,
and I just lay there
one of your legs over my cheek
one under my neck
and it was ghostly blue in the bedroom
and the neurons were firing at random
little snowbursts
bio-luminous ethereal snow flakes glinting momentarily under flashes of cosmic eternal
and your skin was blue like you were frozen,
and I looked at my own skin and I was blue like I was frozen
and we were still and warm in the snow blue glow of prairie bedroom
and the snowflakes of my mind flashed and dimmed and fell like magnesium flares
into this poem for you
laying beautiful and blue and drifting
after the blizzard.