I am cold
My heart is cold
My legs are cold
That awkward coldness still tickles in between my ribs and chest from
a temperate conversation, flat and asymmetrical.
Guess smiling isn’t enough
to combat the coldness harbored by others’ chest.
Guess simple verse is heated to only room temperature
when there is only one half of four ears interested in what is being said.
Guess gentle eyelashes
And kind curiosity don’t carry much weight
When there is nothing warmer than
The reflection of a starless night
In the eyes of your landing spot.