Frostbitten

Hereafter I can feel the itch
Fingers gripping, digging in my skull
If loss were a currency I'd be sickly rich
In lieu of kissing, twisting in life's stitch

There, wading through a jungle
Eyelids lick me bare like a mouth
So careless is my searching
Caressed by bootleg drowning my doubts

Now dance dusty blown by blister
Where minds and voices skip-collide
A bouquet of needles services fervor
Clear to fly towards another winter.