Jaguar Bingham

Walking In The Snow


These pale flecks of frosted emotion sting

my skin (bare) when I walk

with you.

A seething so sudden, that

at first, it is unnoticeable: purely snow.

Then Cold turns to cinders - turns to

Ash; scoring, cutting, infecting

my Body with your Curse


I blame the snow, but I should blame


The numbness in my fingers

stings from your cold spite -


Yet I continue, persisting on our voyage across this icy road:

My heart, once again replenished with flaming desires - childish yet

visible; today, after your bitter touch

Falls to the ground... Cracking,

Splintering with an essence of you


The warm face of the sun, distant and rare

Shines no more -

Not in winter, at least, whilst


Walking in the snow

Copyright © JRFB 2012