"Thirty-Some Years Frozen" by Nix Carlson

frostbitten hands snatch at the cigarette dangling from your lips and you stoop to meet my gaze with a hangdog expression. i want to be angry (god, i want to be so angry) because cigarettes will kill you in a lifetime, and – i have handwarmers in my fucking pocket. but love is a two-way street, so it doesn’t matter if my pockets are overflowing with iron powder and saltwater, or if my hands offer woolen mittens, or if i crank the heat in my bedroom to ninety degrees with just the friction of my hips on yours. love is a two-way street, and if your frostbitten hands won’t drop their carcinogens, you’ll freeze to death. i cannot exhale love onto your fingertips, bring feeling back into your bones, without you first reaching for me. and i want to be angry (god, i want to be furious) but how can i be, when the only thing your body knows is how to weather a midwest winter? ————————————– Nix Carlson called us from Lexington, KY. voicemailpoems.org/submit/ facebook.com/voicemailpoems x.com/voicemailpoems bsky.app/profile/voicemailpoems.bsky.social instagram.com/voicemailpoems