Diamonds so Close to Coal

Your eyes are luminescent, your smile cold, and your touch like spring water sliding over my skin on a winter day. You are like the sun if the Arctic swallowed it whole, trapped it in ice miles below sea level. You are made of light, and your breath is made of life, of shining things and living things and nothing without a heartbeat. You can freeze me to my very core, my snowman with feathers protruding instead of twigs. You give me frostbite.

But that is not a bad thing, no. I just thought you would be a little warmer.