cold air is colder against bare flesh.
swept over with serenity.
alone.
these worldly things have lost their grasp.
cold air grasps.
cold burns.
that sound when iced wind hits the glass
sends a chill down a covered spine
cold in thought
cold against flesh
left alone in dark divine.
doubt is distant
but closely cold
a chill in warmth and desire.
a clouded bowl
of clouded ice
a frozen-over fire.
These things are cold
and cold they stay
no heat has found its home
lost in air
futilely grown
a never ceasing mire.