arctic blue


there is a point
when ice, sufficiently chilled,
is of such intensity as to
burn like blackened fire

i stare at the arctic ice
above your smile
awaiting summer’s thaw
gingerly lean too close

but burned by your icy stare
as you measure me
wondering, surely, if
i’ll breach your icy shore

so here i sit in bitter silence
until i touch my frozen flesh
feel, to my surprise the heat
i mistook for cold

though it burns where i touch
my hands move freely, and
my eyes won’t look away
snow-blind, i am, by you

10 Comments

  1. Dugutigui says:

    Great! Ice burns, and it is hard to the warm-skinned to distinguish one sensation, fire, from the other, frost. 🙂

    1. Thank you very much. That’s what I was going for.

  2. Ishaiya says:

    Tell me what I’m supposed to do.

    1. I wrote this poem in July 2010.

      1. Ishaiya says:

        You posted now.

  3. I love this. I love this so much

Comments are closed.