Petals

Peeling back my layers

Slowly, gently, carefully

One by one

Like the petals of a zinnia bud

 

My instinct is usually

To stay your hand

The New Ice Age

As Earth spins into seasons
We spun snow upon our feet
Immobile, white with frozen eyes
We breathe through cones
A smile, melting into our teeth

In Winter

in winter
i cover my hands and feet
in the warmth of secrecy
my fingers feeling loosely
the familiar tinge of hell