cold my cape

by yokomolotov

I’m tired of this winter

my passion a long vapor and

herald through a conch

the quiet white

covered everything

cold night shattered

its remnants spun in the atmosphere


like a snow globe placenta

I’m a traveler

among bones

milk my entrance

cold my cape

glide on femurs

a boneyard pathway

I equate the great cold

with a sharp sense of


becoming more clear with

every frigid day

bone rider

white shiner

riding bone white knuckle

wide eye socket


a frantic

picked clean leviathan

and snowed roofs

the long hard barren trees

they’re reaching up in agony