"Crisp"
Clearer than the hit,
And sharper than the tip.
She drifts about the rip and skip
Of fancy's trip,
And swims along for a sweet dip.
Her fumes collect the spit from the dewy lips
Of nature's frosty grip.
She goes along for this trip,
But not for a sip
Of nature's crisp slip.
Only for a hand and a willing skip.
Love should never sit.
Author's Note: This one's...okay. I don't hate it, but I don't like it either. It sort of slipped out on paper.