Sauna

Saunas, my love, recreate the laughter
of a playroom in the mansion of grace.
Lacey teeth arching ever after
hot and sharp at the corners of your face
cherish temperatures beating beating beating
wild and free like our hearts, our hearts,
upon playful touches of ever-fleeting
youthful crushes. A primary glance starts
exhilarating a spark dancing, blanching,
spiraling within—Ah! The glimpse grows
to all-out and overheated prancing
of irises—the radiator blows.
Steam hangs so lowly on our lobes,
You and me are laughing in our robes.