cold
 bitter cold
  it cuts through my coat
  tearing at my skin
   until I am chilled to the bone
    the very marrow

to leave the cold
 to escape its grasp
   I must leave the wind

so too is your Ö love
 it tears at my heart
   until I am wearied to the bone
     the very marrow of my existence

 and so similar, the solution
   to become free of frigid touch of your words
   to escape your grasp
     I must leave your presence

so please,
 donít ask why I wonít visit
   why I do not answer when you call
     indeed, why I treat you as nonexistent
 no, donít ask


not when the reason is so apparent
_________________________
the story
††† https://1in6.org/men/bristlecone/mark-krueger/

Kirkridge - October 2008
Alta - September 2012
Alta - September 2013