Delivery Of Ice Poem by Raj Dronamraju

That was me holding both of her hands while simultaneously avoiding her gaze
Because doing that that would have shattered the scene like the ice her gaze revealed
Of nothing, of a frozen place empty in a cold wasteland

Dropped off you in front of our next big disappointment
It isn't yet open for the day but you can sit on the stone wall in front and visualize your next big disappointment
The madness of the surface your hand sticks to producing sour pain and disgust diminishing emotion

You will never know numbness of a deeper kind
The delicate voyeur of impertinence has stolen my mittens
Cascade of slights add up as combined weight on the back of form

I have never spent one second thinking about what made me the man I am
The man I was becoming and further became when she backed up the van outside and delivered ice in big blocks and in 40 pound bags
As if I bathed in your essence and in doing so joined the polar bear club

This cold expression is two fold
It doesn't lift, it slows down, it penetrates
It comes across electronic communication and sitting next to you when time together is cut off abruptly by a suddenly remembered appointment somewhere else