Our conversation stung

like winter upon my tongue,

and every breath frosted in pain.

I spit out blizzards

as you thunder out your response.

Iced over eyes and I cast a flurry

of disappointment in your direction.

I was ice.

I was a tempest.

I was snow, and I blended

myself into the background.

My anger formed drifts between us

and by the time we went to bed,

The icebergs of resentment

formed a mountain range of stubbornness

and silence divided us.

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