By the time he drank it the ice had melted
maybe a sign of unsaid things
of melting love in a with-held union
with no more appeal to committed rings
but such their marriage a slow adjustment
into an agreement which was seldom agreed
a removal of impulse within the contract
adjusted to halt his scattering of seeds
To bed and back-turned sleeping positions
no parsed ‘goodnight’ no actual speaking
and into sleep he sinks in frustration
finding this night
love without waking.