Next Fall

This breath of mine
Meets yours, yet frosts over
With the cold of your words
Turning lips blue
From the overexposure
And yet glacial fingers
Caress the hollow of cheeks
Pulling me ever so closer
And it's too much to hold
Back, Too much to gather
What this touch means to you
Behold how I shatter
Beneath it, The black
Of deceit fits tightly
On your figure, a seed
Meant to grow in
A soil most bitter 
And flowers do die
In winter, like a plague
The snow comes 
Thinking they will defy
Their nature and adapt
Just like you do
With my lips dry and chapped
I could never evolve into
Something new
To my form I am trapped
But I will meet with you
Soon, time will pass
Ghosts of greed, extracting
Life from my bones and I'll be
Wed to the weed that takes us 
All, death I'll marry you
Next fall...