hemostasis
winter has never passed.
asphalt and pine punctures between the ribs
of each year until Thirteen.
honeyed clouds of snowbeds
opaque with adolescence
fissuring upon outbursts
that manifest under
ancient sugar spun wool
effort lost on sleeves of dead sweaters
chasing dripping wrists.
inflammation
constrict, release
obey the pleading pulse
to render sutures calloused.
burning swells
nails beg to puncture
expand, deplete
etched in communal
yet disjointed among reason
malice evident in dialation
courses under frost.
proliferation
reuniting epithelium
borders laced with nostalgia
glossing over impermanence.
a tender whirr synthesizes
along dimming ivory.
tautness turned temporal
elasticity softening
at the chimes of cotton
gracing gentle ground.
pay homage to the fragrance of angels,
crystalled lashes now worshipping sanctity.
maturation
rushing cadence begins to wither
at the hands of unfinished wool
pulse bordering the divider
of hard pink and what emerges
elastic worn
it’s limits fractioned
manifesting in slivers of seraphim
gently inevitable
perhaps this is the tithe
of winter that has never passed.
