Freezing

I'd lazily trace the falling-star fly-patterns
across the back of your neck and you'd wonder,
wonder why you ever got yourself into this
tangled web of a swiftly crumbling masterpiece

You'd reach out your unfitting palms
to touch the surface of a glassen pool and
your gaze would finally grace the depths
of the storming blue-grey of my eyes

I'd search that somewhat murky brown sight for
a sign of why you told me you were afraid and I would
hold onto the tear-laced explanation you'd dream-give me,
I swear I would never let it go, not even when you left

You'd actually think to look back once you turned for
the future laid out before you, one that you were convinced
simply could not have enough space for me or for us and I
might actually cry out loud as you walked away

Perhaps you could leave me with a small gift, of sorts,
the kind that makes you never forget and brings the tears
back to your eyelashes even after the winter-cold has gone
and left us all alone, silent and freezing, waiting for death