frozen orgasm

[seasonal cleanse]

the world lays flat.
inverted.
i curl around the corners of the edge of the earth
greeted with remnants of chill, humid evenings that have started to cease
the night air begins to intensify,
a layer of autumn residue twitches - fragile and naive
like a post-newborn destined to die in a few fortnights
i swear the sky glitches.
static courses through the arteries of this spherical prison
and i wonder how long it will take for the vessels to thin:
for a spasm.

i continue down the path laid out for me
i watch the sickly sky as acidified snowflakes carress my blackened countenance
there is nothing left here
but the poisonous smell of smoke and the first droplets of virgin snow:
ranked as weakest of the slush, acting as a trojan horse
welcoming the new season with deception.
the promise of immunity is a curse.

my surroundings alter with ease
seasons switch like a sharp razor cutting through scarred skin:
the impact is so fast -
the blood comes trickling down swift and fluidly
like a fresh glass of water
winter has begun.
so then why is only time frozen?
when will i catch up?

i pray for disclosure.