Ice queen, she called me.

Ice queen, she hailed,

and warm little fingers

touched the edge my veil.

 

Ice queen, she laughed,

and her hands, quick as claws

drew me in close

to see if I’d thaw.

 

Up, high above us

snow like white stars

rained on my rooftop

and hardened my heart.

 

Ice queen, she pleaded

and rounded her spine,

and pressed her warm lips

to what should have been mine.

 

Hail tapped the glass -

white shards, hard as stone.

So I opened a window

to let in the cold.

 

Ice queen, she begged

and waned to her knees

like withering embers

before a deep freeze.

 

Wind blew like plainsong

all over the room

expanding my lungs

like flowers in bloom.

 

Ice queen, she whispered,

before she snuffed out

and all that was left

was some ash tossed about.

 

Outside, the snow fell -

a sea of white dunes.

Trees raked the sky,

and blotted the moon.

 

But inside, it was quiet.

The fire had died.

And I, lonely ice queen,

dreamed of summer, and sighed.

​