the way it felt was cold
like a cold droplet whispering
telling me an admiring story

I was adrift, somewhere gentle
my existence a marble on glass
the opaque world on a canvas of crystal

it was strange wasn't it?
how the shadow implored you
gripping your mahogany hair
lips of gloom pressed on your neck.

the heavy melody of apparent
gasping back to this marble
and the darkened crystal knew
coldness was my favorite thing