it’s going to be a cold winter

the closer to me you’ll be, the colder
0 degrees, a broken fire place, a smoldering fire, two wool sweaters, I don’t know how to take the world off of me, it’s sticking to the bone

I am dying of cold
I am living of cold

I never had a room of my own
a bed of my own, just bundled things, things that weigh heavy on me
I am alone, even my lungs make love to each other
their love making stifles me

I wish it snowed
I wish it snowed poetry, I wish it settled in a thick layer
keep warm the soil inside, the buried people
so I can’t see them, just caress them
Feel them

I hope this winter stops
the sliding of scissors in me