The air, cold as ice,
it is dry as desert sand,
and pierces my shirt.
The night, clear as glass,
the dim stars in moonless sky,
they’re wonders unseen.
This unpeopled lot,
nearly deserted tonight,
is silent as death.
Do not fear for me
—seems I only broke my heart—
and this too shall pass.
Pain is cold and piercing. I loved the imagery and the chill.
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Thank you.
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