A poem by Violet
I can feel the cold even between my toes
Naming the separation clear and clean.
Funny how it seeps into me;
Summer heat never penetrates,
just hovers, as closely as someone
with no respect for personal space,
making a slick river of my spine
I love the winter wind outside;
My window is open a crack so I can hear
The unnamable rush in its currents
Making an arctic paradise of my room,
A tundra so desolate that only I can survive,
Frozen into my cocoon
Beyond the reach of the bravest explorer.
If only it could be frozen this way;
My door closed against reality, a lonely night,
The icy steadfast wind.