190. Ice

Even a sheet or two,
Isn't enough from,
An army of 'achoo."

But an invitation at arm,
To blanket the blizzard,
Memories of home.

"I love you,"
For true, 
Expresses too.

Not one of disarm,
But as to never feel alarmed,
Never carrying the 'what if' of harm.

I could feel it hugging my chest,
Her warmth lit just as brightly as
The red of her doting cheeks.

Worry painted her eyes,
Caressing my hands,
Frozen in time.

Like a heart allergic,
To the breath of living,
Shamed into hiding.

Her fingers brush against it,
Hithering a hollow chill,
Akin to starving a ghost.

But that's not what,
Broke her heart frozen,
Birthing children of tears.

But the apathy.

As this was nothing new,
Death always held me close.
Like no one else ever wanted to.

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