ice house

we have built our home on a block of ice
only to watch it melt
our bodies slipping into its muddy underneaths
and shivering from the slow transition


I

this evenings walkings brought me
down alleyways of bursting flowers
the unripe blackberries
never crushed under hot tongues
grasses still green
and dry land soon to be winter moistened

II

the structure began to crack
all those months ago
imperceptible hairline fractures
shifting the view from eachothers eyes
and our feet began to get cold
our soles growing flaky peeling and cracked

III

the mud has stained everything
the mixture of ice and water and dirt
up to our thighs
smeared on our backs when we decide
that we want our bodies to lay together
to rest in the sludge and dream

IV

i sit in these same clothes
from the last 3 days
with the dried thickness on my sleeves
the smell of the earth drying on the fibers
and in my hair
the mud dries out our skin
and we tear off layers of it
in a vain attempt to make it all go away

V

we may find another structure
to build it on again
but i will remember that building such a thing -
upon the solid of a liquid
or the ephemera of a moment
will always lead to the landslide
of heart heat and feeling
that will wash us both away
and wash us far apart