I think I hate your boyfriend.

He seems less a giver,
More a taker.

Said I'd never go back to Texas
But there's something pulling me there
I'll face my destiny in a dusty street -

She's got a gun in her hand and pale lavender hair

Her skin pale ice
Her body, winter.

My hands smooth
Across her flesh,
Warmth blooms,
Spring blossoms.

My kiss is heat,
I taste her snowmelt.