Frigid air bites my tongue
With loss of bitter sadness.
Invigorated,
I step out from the warmth.
I walk for a while, and,
While I pass a window,
I see a lonely light.
Sitting within the
Dark is a screen of stagnant
Blue— unused and locked shut.
I kiss the air with zeal and let
The ice coat my teeth. I take a
Step indoors again to warm my
Hands. I hear a lighter in the
Bathroom— maybe it’s time to leave.
Feet crunch against snow as my mind
Drifts into pleasantry. Maybe
The night is bright as the day.
“Wait. Wait.” Echoes into
The air as I stand at the
Crosswalk. At times I’ll
forget about the lie
Of technological
Dominion. My legs shake
As I start to walk to
The other side. Red
Hands tell me to halt. I will
Not listen. I keep walking.
A Crack In The Warmth
