Sunday, February 22, 2015

in the cold

the damp stain
of cold, frigid breath
drained from
the partially living
beast
you know the one
with one fang
ready to claw deeply
into
your flesh
and tear away
the sweetest meat

no leftovers

nothing to hold onto

and the arctic
air shatters
its recipient

its vice
and whole purpose
to diminish
a life

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