Ice Storm
A poem

When it’s storming over on my side, I crawl onto his so we can breathe and beat together over the hum of the hotel heater Outside past the window, freezing rain falls, ice accumulates, and the trees are the color of dust coated in flour, bent, laden with crystallized branches
A groan — I unload the burdens from my arms, and I leave them on my half of the bed Silence — the trees are unmoving in their stooped stance They accept what I couldn’t bear to bring to you
