In the gun metal mist morning of exquisite ice silence, 'twixt lurking night owl shriek,
and watery sunbeam leak,
I imagine that you breathe sharply, taunting moaning haunt howls with the fire and cloud burst of suspense -
Slicing space between us into slivers of shiver;
Banishing the chasms upon chasms within us, glimmer deep, which mock
The pounding constance, that, even now, urge us toward the rush of melted
Spring.
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