There are many types of crying

in the world. I haven't seen you cry

since somewhere between your most recent

episode and you finding the wine I stole

from you.

And I'm crying while I'm writing this.

There is choleric crying where my tears

slush down my face like snowboards

skidding across a frozen tundra.

Then there's that other type of crying.

When the space between my bones freezes

over and my skin crawls with ice. My shoulders

stagnant with gelid numbness. The tears hail

and my lungs hollow like naked birch trees.

Give me some time to thaw.