To breaking ice, the lovers carve, to breaking ice the best
device is whisky. It’s up to you to wash it down with
typos. But crashing rocks, crystal chips, bites on the
throat; you’d write a break is a tiny mess by stonehearts.
Attempt to melt, instead
To melting ice, you doubt, to melting ice the best scheme is
longing. It’s down to you to drink it up with molten.
But sucking heat, magma frost, freezing your taste;
you’d guess a melt of riverveins by cravings boiling.
To evaporate is not to fade