Can’t you hear the sound

Of my rasping lungs?

Hold on;

That faint blood-wheeze

Keeps the lonely disease

From infesting me.

And I bet you hear the crush

Of my snow-filled step?


It crunches

Beneath me

Like muted cough

And water runs black

As if the darkness between stars

Spilled upon the land.

The night may hide

Everything thought we knew

As untold stories

And unthinkable memories

and won’t stop all that whispering

Coming back in.

Because, on this night,

Shouting at the stars,

the snow silences us.


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