Outside -- your colors -- black with silver stars.
When I left, they'd frozen crystals in your beard.
Cold sleeper, if hell is, then this is ours,
cold hands, cold feet, I ache for what I feared.
Russian nights are legend, bright and bleak.
You'd never let me keep you in your place,
I sweated every time I heard you speak;
Well, I've matched you, anyway, it's cold in space.
I was thinking of her traitor's hands
imagining that hope, ignored, was mastered.
I answered you with cold eyes and commands
but you, like hope, blindsided me, you bastard.
and by the time I knew what I should do
my heart was frozen into sleep with you.