The Lake: A Tumbling Tower of Ice

A merrily marriedly saunter
Brought a paired pair of eyes
Our eyes
To a place where darkness and moonlight
Blend and bend
To the will of a siloed, silent lake.
 
We marveled (marvelously)
At the juxtaposition juggling
Warm air with thick ice
A reactive reflection as clear as glass
And we knew we’d found our home.
 
I, the panicked planner
Calculated weight ratios, sun exposure
And a tempered temperature balance so we’d never break through.
You, so calm and casual
Just started building an igloo.
 
My weary eyes waiting
For snow covered branches
To melt into dewdrops
An indigenous indicator
That seasons were to change.
 
This delicate balance of things
In our hideaway hovel
Trash towers among frozen flowers
Didn’t matter much to you.
 
Your love of lavish
Drew you to peer at distant piers
Far from our windows and fingertips
Like billboards for self-help books
Promising a better life.
 
…maybe you were just ready for something warmer.
 
So I neglected the thawing
Blinded my eyes to the weight of our burdens, bare
As I began my remodel
To give you something pretty
 
Tired eyes and raw fingers
Complimented the gnawing, numbing
Of ice water trickling the walls
Pooling to the floor
Peppered with red and sweat.
 
When all of it was through I carried you
Touting strong stems on tiptoes
Delivering you to your perfection
Every delicate step
Spawned a symphony of shatter
 
The tensile strain of our mixed intentions
Clashing with a denied reality
Juggling the juxtaposition
Of warm air with thick ice
Now paper, thinned
Bent and bled
As clear as glass
While the floor enveloped us from beneath.