I learned that ice burns too
from the frostbites we gave each other.
Where my tongue got stuck
to the iron of the blood
gently flowing from open wounds
artfully lining our freezing mouths.

Just like children
licking a frozen stop sign
a warning so red it just screams
that all of this
might have started with
the gentlest of intentions,
but still ended up
with us both imploding
like forgotten frozen pipes.

Because the cold invading our guts
expanded for so long
that it was then impossible
to slow down the shattering
of this weird winterland
we failed to see our world was.

And when came the time
to take back my tongue,
to tell you that I could no longer
live with the forming stalactite
of our mixed, dripping,
bloodstained saliva
stabbing at my heart,
the warm breath I exhaled
did not agree with your cold one.

Two opposite winds collided
creating a perfect storm
effectively capturing my voice
in the bull's eye of my lips.
My words did not know
if they should still
attempt to break through
or stay, eyes closed,
in this artificial peace.

Maybe the bull's eye could be
a temperature controlled utopia
where the teeth marks in our cheeks
would fade overtime
and our guts wouldn't explode
and the stabbing at my heart would stop.

However, when I opened
the lashes of my words
like a winter forest being burned down
and our eyes met
like little red frightened creatures
we understood
and only ended up drowning
in a pond of our own melted tears.