The Cold Sun

As the sun, a golden ball
Of cold fire hides behind
The cotton clouds, I sigh

Today too the moon,
Won't be seen In the sky
And today again I will

Be left longing For those
morsels of you that the
moondrops bring for me

Broken

I would lay myself bare

Peel my skin

Shred my innards

To pour myself unto you

But I don't yield 

My being and body

My heart and soul

Hardened and cold

Fragile and brittle

Hammered, 

Broken

into sharp fragments 

I split In a thousand shards