Ice

The fire of the neighbouring age

A little far away from a tunnel

Escaping a little into one closed bay

All heated

And sweating profusely

As if chasing from a horrible night.

I lived there

Where the girl lived

Just beside the front porch

Under the mistletoe of many trees

Shrinking as one

Yet many.

I killed not one

But all

Who fell inside the hole in me-

The fish,

The creepers under the hardwood tree.

It could'nt survive the winters

Or the scratch of my scribblings on its arm

So I twisted and turned its head

Upside down

Into one neat braid

And killed it.

I am the frozen

Diminished like the monster that feeds off fear

Under your bed-

Dying with the summers of infinty 

Scavenging down the dewy aisle

In a wedding gown

Completely wrecked.