In my dreams
she comes, frostbitten;
blue asphyxiation.
Her lips like dried leaves,
brown,
crisp.
Her eyes streaked with trauma
and
under siege.
She commands me, summoning
my tremors with
her poisoned whistle.
I try to inhale,
but my lungs are missing!
I drop.
To my knees, in panic! They
have escaped!
I cannot find oxygen to grant voice
to tongue. She wrings me out!
Her eyes clamped tight
to my throat, twisting
her frozen corpse
to my
bone.
She has spread; I am cold,
White winter.
Alone.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 