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How cold…

have you become, my dear?

You didn’t change all at once.

No.

You rose slowly.

First, a silence.

Then a distance.

Then a mountain.

Now you stand there

covered in white.

So beautiful.

So untouchable.

So still.

You have become a mountain of snow.

And your heart…

your heart grew so cold

that even coldness whispered,

“I am freezing here.”

Tell me…

Why should I stay

at the foot of your winter

when you shine so brightly with the sun?

You glow.

You shimmer.

You blind.

And I lie back

pretending I am resting

when I am really

learning how to live without warmth.

Listen carefully:

I am not afraid of the cold.

Cold is honest.

Cold does not pretend.

I am afraid of you.

Not because you hurt me.

Not because you left.

Not because you shouted.

No.

I am afraid

because I do not understand

when love

turned into altitude.

When did your embrace

become something I had to climb?

And tell me…

Is this love?

Or is this something else

wearing love’s white coat

and calling itself devotion?

I stand here,

hands in my pockets,

watching you shine.

And I wonder

if I am waiting

for spring…

or

for courage.