will you permit me your time,
smiling politely, at the unrest of our situation?
I’ll engage you in a lullaby
wrapping your ice-covered doubts in my gently spun
feelings of this; my new found content.
Let me walk you through all of your misgivings
holding your interest one more time
in my echoing call, of your forgiving shelter.
I’ve tried so hard to tell myself you’re gone –
yet my mind remains my winter of isolation.
Roses and ice wrapped side by side
amid this space of worthless unvoiced conflict.