Please don’t melt away

You are my little icicle so please don’t melt away.
I’ll keep you in my freezer and peep at you each day.
And if that will not satisfy, I’ll put in more ice cubes.
I can’t tell what sex they are,I hope that I’m not rude
For all we want is friendship sweet, and eyes that sometimes shine
I know I can’t see yours right now , but maybe you’ll see mine.
Those cubes are gender free I think, but they don’t seem to speak
If I leave one on the table top, it seems to spring a leak.
It seems a trifle silly to fall in love with ice
But I don’t have to be what  others think is nice.
And ice will turn to water and water turns to tears.
I think they’re running down my face and then they disappear.
And so they water someone’s soul and then I’ll be of use
So can I be an icicle or  is that thought obtuse?