Icicle Wings

I thought it was spring returned

until I looked into her eyes,

a gaze so frozen and indifferent

feeling the words she spoke

dipped the temperate below freezing.

 

How quickly the season of our hearts changed

summer past while I thought it as still July

for our love.

 

But fall came in excuses and the loss

of passion’s leafs upon my dream trees.

 

The air before her lips

only breathed biting phrases,

sentences had icicle wings

dancing over my soul,

skewering my hopes with chilling daggers.

 

Each time we spent time together

was a stroll across a glacier,

her touch no more caring or heated

than a snowman’s.

 

Once the air we shared

always brought such warmth inside,

it was a climate full of a radiant joy

that made my insides glow.

 

Today I bear the bitter breeze

from walking alone

upon a tundra in regrets

far away from that cottage of intimacy

where the air condition was left  constantly on high.

 

Living with the days

frosted and frigid,

accepting it is better to face the cold

than dwell in an ice box

called a home.