Kisses you planted,
in your wait,
have grown into
frost bites.
Arms that I now fall
in to satiate myself,
are after all too naive
to replace your hurt.

And so the infection
spreads in my hunt
for cure, like a horizon
we could never really reach,
ignorant of the healing
that lay in retracing our
steps, all the way back
to where we parted.

- Sobhan