Her:

frost is a smokescreen of
fragility edged with
compromise in a warm breath.
knows defiance in
the smear of impatient hands,
forced warmth.

a blush on the cheek,
what lying under my skin.
what crackling in fractals.
cold or heat?
your touch or my want of it?

i streak across murky pretense,
pooling on the sill,
foggy white windows reflecting
shapes through which to
imagine an other you.

Him:

…