Wander through this deadspace where all breath is icy and the spoken world is comsumed and blowed out in a whisp through this somber existence. Her breath is like vanilla frost on his bitterly chilled tongue and his cold sentiment calls to her like the howls in the night. She asks to melt the ice but she tasted blood. Nails etched with the sorrows of the cries of the frozen lost. Names scratched to the list and thawed into frail roses. Roses smelling of elegies slipped trhough sinful hands. A requiem lost in the frost like his love for her.

...yeah just a poem thing I came up on the spot right now...it started out as saying, so Kathie came home today but wrote that...sorta sucks