WINDOWS OPEN IN NEGATIVE 20 DEGREE WEATHER
asphodel.
a black squirrel perches upon petrified bark,
cottonflowers blooming on its twigs.
it watches shooting stars descend,
glitter like broken glass in the ice sun.
twinkling night mirage, knees deep,
my self-clipped feathers scatter.
wishes heave against ivory gates,
plastic pieces form my heart,
a polyester soul.
beyond the crown, ashen pallet-knife strokes,
and icing sugar dusted moss.
wisps of french vanilla warmth poison my veins,
as i look on, unseeing, unfeeling.
4000 miles wasted on the rotten,
the unable, not unwilling.
