infinite.

imagine if we met,
before time had burnt us;
before the heat
was pooled at my feet.

i would clasp your hand
for eternity;
and the grey burdens
would be warmer and shared.

silence could protect us,
as we built a nest:
preparing for hibernation
in an infinite winter.

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switch.

the lid
is over-flowing
with familiar
self-loathing.

but a different
kind of tremor;
no tears and
just cold, dark eyes.

no heart
can warm me.
i hear your name
and shiver.

memory and
my head aches.
the switch flipped
the wrong way.