A festive eve.

You wore holly red and coal blackness,
Daring Santa Claus to 'Define good.'

The amber taste of brandy on your tongue
As you leaned to put the first yellowed flames,
To  the moist, dark, and rich plum pudding
And set blue flickers dancing across its surface

Before you idly dressed the deep, alpine, green of the tree
In glittery silver-foil stars, and the frosted lilac and pink
Shades of sugared almonds and of twisted candy canes.
I in turn, idly undressed you With my eyes;
Unwrapping layer by layer, as I might unravel
The velvet and satin ribbons and bright, festive, papers
In their kaleidoscope shades.
Always so eager for the prize beneath.

Even as you dangled the ivory berries of mistletoe
Above your chestnut and butterscotch curls.
You were far too tempting - never as pure as new snow,
And I fear, after too much dark mulled wine,
I can't remember if your eyes are iced cyan, ivy green
Or Perhaps the rolling of snowstorm grey.

You pouted cranberry lips, that tasted of spiced oranges.
I near melted like creamy chocolate
Before you devoured me, like warm, fresh, gingerbread.

The indigo of the night sky struck midnight,
And fell apart in iridescent white flakes.
If you possessed a halo of gold like a festive angel,
It slipped...