Cold
along the edges
of a bubble
we've spun from

pulsing, bitter silence.

Chiseling out warmth with raw fingertips
slipping sheet after sheet of sickly quiet
out of the air

The outlines of eyes taper
too close to see anything but
the overwhelming hues
of skin and cloth and widened irises
swirling over a tunneled line of sight

Lying restless in a heap of sour thoughts turned grateful
and trembling from a frozen state
with energy springing forth in shivers
boiling under skin until

shaky breaths are all I am, in
panic. hope and shame
circling a terribly, unspoken gradient
til I bring one cool, steady palm
to her warm cheek
and break it
from a heavy whisper off my bottom lip