Ice Queen In The Sauna

She steps in
tall and firm as a birch,
not young but glassy

We have seen her
throned with the Ice King,
measured ourselves
against her glimmer.

We shuffle a space
with sullen fealty,
and hug our knees
uneasy in the rolling

landscape of our flesh.
When she throws water
onto hot stones
we do not flinch,

but leave to crush
snow onto our breasts
and stand burning
in the frozen air.

Elisabeth Rowe