Too cold

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full of
spi-der-y
nerves,
the begs to go inside. it’s six degrees
he refuses
“come here,” he says, to hold her, warm her
she does, but pulls away and runs up the porch into the house
we apologize, empathy ringing in his ears
the color in his eyes fades into the ice and the laughter dies
and he swears it will all be over by tomorrow
on the inside, I’m smiling, smirking
knowing we’re both wrong,
we’re one in the same





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