This heart crumbles under fleeting monogamies And I, clumsy and paper-pale,
Hold no ground to stand on, no coaxing enclosing fire for your coin-cold glances.
I crumple, folding in -
Heart ill with hope's tiny ruptures.
With such smooth, gliding grace do you inspire such a wreckage of me.
Rendering all foolish fiery impulses to softly - fade,
to gently - die,
Leaving the love that's left to be - enduring to be - true.
And on this reckless heart -
A snow descending.