Verona

An icicle sat poised over the doorway
And every time she passed beneath it, she wondered if it would fall down and pierce her heart.

She shivered at the thought.
Ice was cold, colder than her, although maybe not as cold as He was,

And certainly not as cold as the North Star

It was an odd thing to see, the facsimile diamond coating,
the deceptive wink of it when in the sunlight was interesting as well.

She didn't care.

How could she?
How do you care about an icicle?
It's an icicle, for God's sake.

And for His sake, as well, she should add that anyway, just in case he was watching.
Of course, he might not have been watching.

She was just crazy like that.