and Other Words I Should Have Said
Fifty one poems on love and loss.
My bones are made of ice.
I felt them freeze inside me long ago
That deep, deep cold when my skin is hot
And all that holds me up is frigid fear
I have been skin around a snowman for so long
I forgot to notice
How brittle I am and harsh and jagged at the edges
But now I notice, now
I feel the blood rush up and down my veins too warm
That you would press warm fingers to my wrist
And melt me into life again.
I have been so frozen and far away
And safe, but now is the time to thaw,
To be a puddle at your feet."