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Poetry » Nature » Flip Flops in December font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Bluorange
Fiction Rated: K - English - General - Reviews: 1 - Published: 04-06-08 - Updated: 04-06-08 - id:2500575

The cars pass

In a blur of carbon

I reach up and feel.

The icy daggers prick my fingers

I pluck an icicle

That froze on the stop sign.

I touch it my tongue to the tip

And bite.

My heart is frozen

Momentarily

Like the icicle itself had stabbed me

And stabbed

I can feel the cold spreading through my body

Through my throat

Streaming in my limbs

The ice in my mouth is melting

And my body sacrifices

Heat.

A steady throbbing settles inside,

Like smoke, or drums, or rain.

Every nerve screams,

It can’t take the cold,

But then they are silenced,

My body becomes numb.



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