I feel the sky
must be slate
behind these clouds that cry.

I feel the tear
trapped on your cheek
and mine.

I kissed you
and I hold you.

Five-spoked
snowflakes
rest on my back,
press me into you,
soft, delicate;

while you say
there is no us –
you’re just a friend
– your friend words lying –

my friend’s voice cannot.

I think
you blame God
more than me
for my not being
who you need
as much as I am
what you wanted.

Precious
little beauty
between us –
simply pleasure and sorrow.

And now regret, perfected.

Your hands melt from my back,
lips whisking warmly
by.

And into your car
and the wet night.

Your body was warm
and yet my heart is cool
indecision.

Still dry, but.

Still pounding.