A piece of gum,
your words roll like winterfresh breath
from your lips, carving the air into ice sculptures,
slowly freezing the torn edges of what I once had thought was truth.
A refreshing sensation yet it has chilled me into my place and your words are
written on my skin like frostbitten-blue tattoos.
Give me cinnamon.
You cease utterance and the air falls, thrown aside and
cast into shatters of melting glass,
quenching my flaming heart.
I feel the steam in my chest.
I used to feel protected by the lukewarm everyday
but this simultaneous heat and frost has altered the things I once knew.
Your presence sets shivers through my soul and
I'm inflamed by your moving lips, a piercing whispering cry.
I've been reborn.
Where are you now, inside my body? pulsing through my veins?
In your silence, you pull me outside of myself in search of you
I need your sweet breath to feel alive
Don't ever leave me to my lukewarm existence again
but speak to my secret self like you did before.