This Is Ice Melting
Robert Atkinson
This is ice melting
I've no time for elaboration
She says between breaths
You gave up on me
By July, sailor
I'll be gone, I'll be gone
By July, sailor
I'll be gone
That's not fair
I cried, my
Cold sweat steeped
In her disdain
A tether ball
Tied to my
loneliness
