It was gut-wrenching
(and God- how the cold made it worse) .
It tingled up my spine
(and returned and returned like a curse) .
Chills fell down my shoulders
And crawled up my legs…
My throat pounded
Pulsed;
I Swallowed hard.
My breathing slowed
Pulsed;
My lungs felt charred.
That very last ‘I’ll miss you’
(repeating and repeating…
Deafening and bleeding) …
I could force it down
(but not really for very long) .
I could try something else
(but everything still felt wrong) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem