cold,
bony feet
trying to keep me warm.
numb body parts,
wanting to sleep but
paranoid at getting caught
in arms,
against naked bodies
(why were we naked?
it was cold).
Pinky-promise me
that you love me;
give it the strength of childhood innocence
and swear upon pain of
broken finger (broken
heart) that you love me.
That is all the fear --
that the emotion, the commitment,
the tolerance will end
before these physio-spiritual bodies do.
But if you wrap your finger --
your smallest digit --
around mine,
I could face a world of glares
and chemistry tests,
early mornings and
loss.