Frostbite

That they were warm once, those feet
That carry you off in the other direction –
Cold, clean, foreshortened kisses (and now you) confirm.

That I have known shivers at hand –
The fear of false judgment, of yet being dulled
I hid from you, uniquely, them, sometimes, me.

That I have alarmed every beacon I had
For less than an acquaintance I will not regret;
There was pleasure there too, every pent upon languish.

That they take you away from the most kindly omens
And prove you to be unidentical with
Some heartening love line – I can’t grudge such feet.

Knowing them to have been warm, once,
With tentative heat.