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Frozen, Where it should be
In a hardly long sunrise
my heart began its quest through the soft White Mountains
My heart is near, but my body has slept there
Over night
Thawed by the heat of lust
Though my body's dripping sweat,
My love is frozen in the mountain hips
This gold inferno is not gold enough for these pure cold blades
But down below on the lands far and wide...
My body whispers in hot delight
And the white moon that sings and kills... glimmers sweetly upon a heart so weary
and mad...
...my own
designed to tolerate the chills in solitude
Prone⦠to hunt solitude
poem
by
Cynnd Rose
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