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Biting Winter
with a voice like
a clear subzero
middle of january morning
he sang, whispered
'wait'. Had a quality of clarity
about the sound
like the star on the horizon sharpens
into a constellation
given time.
when everything is now, in this moment
legs move faster, feet
tap rhythmless crazy
faster faster now with
a whirring yelp
yet,
you expect me to wait
cruelty suits you,
that soft grey coat.
poem
by
Alexzia Ferdinand
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