and the only way i ever felt close to people was the press of my hands in their open wound
stemming the flow of blood
the warmth of their pain giving me a way in
around the ice enveloping me

so i dug my hands in, felt every tear of their heart
held their head as they wept and lent on my shoulder
drinking in the ghost of intimacy in those moments

the blood spilling over my fingers felt like fire to my frozen limbs
burning and alive
i didn’t care, didn’t notice as it scorched my flesh
overjoyed at a sensation other than numbing cold