cold

12th January

I’ll write

You a word or

Two, here in

The dark, here’s

My word sounding

Bright through the

Night, I hope,

To you over

There, squared

Out in my mind’s

Eye, through the

Cold dead window

Blocked out with

Ice-mist then

Blind.

Comfort my night,

Warm my thin

Neck and cool

Teeth , set crooked

On this tongue.