deepundergroundpoetry.com
Silent Ice
Beat after beat, the warm blood
pumps, while steamed breath
heaves.
Fleets of stilled, glittering drifts
rise up, shimmered
traps.
Moments are plunged into
eternal iced
shards.
Fur sodden, frozen solid,
it is dead-weight
shed.
Eyes wholly blackened, the sole
depth, yet sparkles
stare
as the gemmed crown of anguish
bites – a glacial
nip.
Benumbed pulsations harden,
slow then cease, now
stone.
Whirled stars touch softly, kissing,
frosting, lying
still.
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