well I thought of you in summer
but you did not suit the season--
a pale and solemn human,
your fingers stark and slim.
what was it like to shelter,
in the ring of salt and stone?
you thought that demons could not watch you,
when they've always found their home.
I saw you climb inside your skin, thinking
you'd be safer from within
but his fingertips
poked through
and he was the end of you.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
well I thought of you in summer
but you did not suit the season--
a pale and solemn human,
your fingers stark and slim.
what was it like to shelter,
in the ring of salt and stone?
you thought that demons could not watch you,
when they've always found their home.
I saw you climb inside your skin, thinking
you'd be safer from within
but his fingertips
poked through
and he was the end of you.
A more candid letter to myself.
(For those of you who don't know but would like to, "bon hiver" means, "good winter" in French.)
