Jogging in place
naked
trying to regain the feeling in my earlobes, my cock, my nipples.
A snowflake pushed on a stainless steel breeze flutters towards my iris.
I plant my feet to watch it flux in and out of focus
ignoring the push mower shutter
winding up in my diaphragm.
The snowflake was a tiring beauty
Terribly similar
Cold.
Always a beacon of cold.
My joints quake like mantle
and spread like divergent plates,
chemical heat splitting their natural boundaries like magma whipped and frothing
The thin cloud from my breath appears again.
Always a beacon of life
I feel an icy burn like my body forgot it's senses. I squint, expecting to taste the black sky.
Running in place tiered, naked, trying to regain the warmth in my arms, my lungs, my heart.
A flurry, pushed on a gust like an ice hook, rushes towards my panting tongue.
Always cold
Always a beacon of warmth.
No comments:
Post a Comment