you told me you don’t drink coffee
because it’s a reminder that you are cold in comparison
i laughed and placed my hand on your cheek
i said that you don’t feel cold to me
i’m not sure if i believed you were joking
or just hoped you were
because when you smiled in response
i felt those same insidious currents of warmth
that synapse through every one of my raw nerve endings
            when you mouthed that one line in your favorite song
            when you traced concentric circles on my bare skin with your fingertips
            when you compared my eyes to the color of chocolate chips
            when we sat on that frozen iron bench at the park and you held my hand
were you a fiction that i crafted
to ignore some truth i could not handle
i blame myself for letting my self-indulgence
evolve into an aching addiction

my nerve endings have fizzled and popped like burnt out light bulbs
no electric voltages runs through my filaments
because i am numb and cold again.
your frostbite was inevitable
and for a while, i must have been so cold
i felt white hot.

oh,
and *******,
i don’t drink coffee anymore.