winter woods
frosted gods
your eyelashes drip
snow
and blood
such porcelain
ice shards
you call eyes
no honey
resides within
your lips
your spittle
freezes
against your teeth
fragile gods
frozen woods
your fingers know
my every
secret
YOU ARE READING
digital dance - poetry
Poetryyoure not alone in the way you scream at a god who hears but does not understand or care to learn
