Warm as the very light touch of frost
cold as the new born sun of tomorrow
intertwined in our opposites we lay
your heart, hotter still
your skin, still alive
I rest, alone
wondering when you will not come

I tried to
write
a poem about you
but instead
I scribbled a
big, orange-ink blob
and I figured
that made
just as much sense.

and i swear your breath in the cold air might as well have been cigarette smoke, the way it filled my lungs with a taste i couldn't forget and left them begging for something that i knew would only hurt me

I stare at the kettle, I've forgotten to flip the switch on
A teabag lies in the bottom of a cup
I look at the clock and wonder where the time has gone.
I'm in the kitchen, there's something wrong.
I see the sink, the fridge, the oven too
Stop, please, let me think.
I turn back to the cup and it hits me,
There should be two.