cold

[GoodRedRoad]

Dread holds me in place.
The sun is try
ing
hard to come through the windows, but dread holds me until it can't feel me anymore,
like a hand placed comfortably on a stomach,
turning into each other
or
forgetting the other is there.

And I want to live in my mouth.

I want to sit on my teeth and watch my tongue dance before me.
I want my breath to warm me and my lips to keep out the cold.

But that is nonsensical and my feet are so far away from my center that I can do nothing for them;
that they seem to be of their own entity,
each toe a peninsula over frigid waters.

The tundra.

One day the heat will come to flex my muscles for me.
I won't have to twist my body into a distorted letter.

Alphabets of figures, but none of them good enough to imitate a fire,

a fire that burns for me and does not stop no matter the day,
month, year, location.
Nothing's ever good enough and impatience leads to disaster.

I'll wait until the minutes grow.
I'll wait until the earth turns back around.

[heinzs]

[Debbie]

You sure have a way of describing cold...I chuckled when you said.

.I want to sit on my teeth and watch my tongue dance before me.
I want my breath to warm me and my lips to keep out the cold.