How Cold It Must Be


How cold it must be
not loving me.
I bet it freezes you.
I bet you mutter
strange prayers at night
you don't even understand
and watch the clouds
of your breath
like they're angry ghosts,
like you shut your tiny door
on a terrible storm
and you wonder
"Who's knocking?
Who's knocking?"
and you're too scared
to let him in.
I bet you want to grab your knees
and stop the shivering.
How cold it must be,
being you,
not loving me.


January 4, 2000