Her tongue was shrewd.
Colder than an iceberg in the nude.
Sharp and swarming,
Oblivious to global warming.
Like Arctic water to my spine,
Her syringe, accurate and refined.
Frozen in time, sealing our fate.
A sub-zero love and hate.
In hell. Enduring a blizzard’s romance,
We never stood a snowballs chance.
Justin McCahren (10-22-94)