Cold Front
november moved in.
it settled like fog around
our feet, seeping and creeping
through the cracks in
the windows we thought
were cobwebs. frostbite gnawed
at my toes till they ached, set
a creak in my bones and
the floorboards. so we did not
move out; we made way
for november. it filled our eyes
and joints with sleep,
so when we woke (finally)
we cracked and popped like
logs in the fireplace. cold kept
on coming, the wind sweeping
it in; we were red on the outside
and blue within. i didn't notice
the hypothermia slipping
under our skin. the mornings came
colder and darker than ever;
we dismissed it as winter and curled
into ourselves (but the heat
was gone). one morning i woke,
still under the moon, and waited
for your blue lips to move. i shrugged
off the chill when nothing was said;
we had been cold so long
i didn't notice you were dead.