Musing

Girl, why is your skin, your still stare, so cold?
In a room with you, like ice on ember
That once proud face, to dark Hades ‘twas sold
In that rocking chair, late last December
Yourself in that chair, you’d think thoughts to cry
Thinking, maybe, of the people you knew
And between thoughts would come, a heavy sigh
Febrile shivers about nightmares come true
Should I say something, medicine in sips?
Yes, if only to stop bleeding silence
But my words stumble on my flustered lips
Heat beating down on banal condolence
To my surprise, you smile at blushing
Paralysis comes, ‘tis me you’re shushing