Blister

your wintry soul bolsters against my warm summery chest
and breathes into me tastes I’ve never known of
hushing and numbing my ears to a
stark crimson
and a longing for the lively
bubbly youth I glistened with
before you came and dulled my senses and
your topical anesthetic of that
nipping wind that burns my
exposed neck.

it could’ve been delightfully dreadful
as if we could pretend that
anything so wild ever had a chance
your cold nature and my
fiery conflagration
rub against both of our hopelessly damned souls

this love has reduced us to nothing but
chapped calloused blisters.