The End

The bitter ice
And confusion are
Making me slip.
My tongue skirts
Around my chattering teeth,
And your footsteps
Shake the silence.
We walk.
I am trembling, for
The inevitable is
Walking right towards us.
The cold metal
Of your zipper
Smacks your
Crisp jeans with each
Staggering step.
Your murmured speech echoes
Through my clouded head,
And then it is happening.
And then it is silent.
And then it is over.