ice

I do not belong here in this bed
with this woman frozen by so many
indecisions
she pushes me away, pulls me towards, pushes away
pulls me in, pushes away and my heart spins
there is not enough heat in my hands
to touch her
I lie here on my back numb to any possibility
unequipped to climb around on sheets of ice
I know there's a heart in there
I've seen the signs embedded in the ice
felt tenderness, generosity, kindness from her
witnessed a loving spirit, small fearless surrenders

these elements seep out of her through the most minute
hair-line cracks

and all this time, I was looking to fall into
a crevasse

© Thomas Trofimuk

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