Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Counting icicles


12345   6 spikes
Tomb in my stomach
Tomb? 
What’s the metaphor for that
Snow like stacks of paper
38 colors 
77 shades
White on white
Green on green
Drip
Teeth clenched
When love feels far
It’s a moment 
To hold words gently
Or so they say
"they" is me to myself

Could an icicle kill someone?
7 8 9 10
White glowing sky
Like those thin sheets of packing styrofoam
Creates the dusty mood snow of the roof
Or two shades of lavender 
Now it's dark blue on blue
So rich I want to lick it
And nest in color contrasting

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