The cold creep up,
through the skin,
into the bones,
into the soul.
All I could do was
to think about you,
the warmth,
the heat.
Wonder what it did,
was it warmth
or a sharp chill
right in the heart.
Out bodies were warm,
but the heart,
a bit too cold.
It kills me,
slowly,
and then,
all at once.
The opposing images are mysterious. I like that. Love, death, heat, literal dying of cold? A satisfying unknowable quality. Open to interpretation by the reader. Thank you!