I was born
in the time
where frost
and desolation
took residence
and the only
sound you
hear is waltz
for the witches
but it was not
at all, haunting
to listen to
it was wintertime
when I was born
YOU ARE READING
Albeit flawed,
PoezieI was basking under the sun-the waves muffle the sound of my breathing; and I bury myself with cautionary confidence in the sand and with it the memory of your four faces. How can something lethal be life-restorative?
