Cool heat from your eyes,
does not warm the chill,
vibrating across the stark separating space.
Warm words from your tongue,
do not freeze the flush,
climbing the summit of my face.
Stale motions are no guise,
do not conceal the tired,
creeping into the dance of our exchanges.
Small cracks on this rung,
do not support the weight of our apathy,
ceasing to connect links now estranged.