i'm all snow, all rime, all frosty design...
my fingers don't ache - they are white as winter.
I'm all prophecy, interpretation of any wicked sign
anything that I touch in passion - will freeze and glitter.
you are all rain, all birds' songs and all spring
your hair is light as these strings of water,
which fall from the skies (that's how its blueness sings)
and break my snowy heart in halves, in quarters.
we are so close - even on calendar pages, you see?
but we can touch seldom - as every touch...it is killing.
spring and winter are doomed lovers - like you and me:
go close. never ally. every intimacy is a prelude to oblivion.