packed gently, sweetly by the feet in the snow and earth so cold it's solid at the ankles, ice at the toes, thank God the feeling eventually goes (away)
in the middle of the pole she waits looking always to the south frozen tears on frozen face frozen words in frozen mouth
but like air through trees or breath on flute the wind that swirls across her lips gives siren song to throat so mute she calls out to the passing ships
in melisma, in clearest tones she begs for passage to the sun somewhere past the ice and snow anywhere with anyone
where the frost cant follow like regret and scar the skin so white and dead where it's possible for a heart to melt and learn to burst once more with red.
oh hold me hold me hold me close let me feel life underneath your skin and in such posture learn to love thus learn to live, again.
~~kristin.michelle.dennis
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