I lick the ice from my skin;

for it has remained there

since the moment you left,

and I know I must defrost my

indifference and ambivalence

before you return to my arms.

-

a cold, hard shell

encapsulates my heart

(which once throbbed with

love unquenchable)

and icily creeps steadily

up the walls

& down the corridors

only to stop

& melt

at the site of

my own

selfish,                       steaming,

lamenting,                  seeping,

cave of a dwelling.

-

*Yet still I wait

at the door,

to see who

will arrive with the pick.