That day Kai got into a curious
white sleigh, driven by a woman in furs.
“Man-child, make me warm,” she said. Her hairless
body was blue ice. “Come taste your mother’s
milk” and smothered Kai between her pale thighs.
She let him taste her only twice: the first
to numb him from the cold; then to baptize
the boy’s face in an aurora-like burst
of mist. “Come. I will have you mine, I want
the heat of your cock now.” Is it wicked
to seek out what we lack? A ghost will haunt
for love. The Snow Queen for Kai’s burning blood.
Would she melt when he geysered inside her?
The thought made her smile, urge the sleigh faster.