No matter what I try to do
a void will keep me
waving at distance;
involuntarily out of your view.
You say the cold is bothersome,
but even if I burned my bones to keep you,
you’d still take
sleeping with the polar moon
and freezing under it’s subzero
before giving me a second of your precious time
to say hello.
Even the most alluring
constants and vowels
will lose their appeal
before they reach past my teeth,
and you’ll have already
turned your eyes away
before I even take a breath to speak.