Woman, I love thee but
Not thy hypothermic toes;
Strike me not with them
Till their warmth grows.

With you I am intact;
Apart a mangled wreck.
Oft’ I wonder which state is best with
Thy chilled fingers placed upon my neck.

Kiss me on my scratchy chin;
Envelope me in your limbs.
But only after they confess
And make penance for their cold sins.