Enter my stasis: hands groping in the dark
Yet cannot grab nor call for help. My fingers
Are meshed by frozen teardrops, my feet do not
Trust the floor below. Such kingdom I have made,
Enough to put their walls to shame. I have everything:
Between the fortune and the fame, I stand. All the world’s
Marvels come here and do not come out. You can check out
Any time you like, a song once said, but you can never leave.
I have everything, but the single thought of you—of not
Having you—has turned them all to ice. I am married
To this arctic cathedral. I sleep beneath the sheets of satin
As cold as the hollow infinite you placed on your lips.
I do not wish to stay, but the wrist is shy at the welcome
Of a blade. At times, I would sling a sentence to the sky
To shake off sunlight from a cloud. But you would come
And tempt me with December’s air. Oh, my sweet despair,
You are the eye in the ice, the sharp drip of a frozen spike
That hangs from my ceiling. Darling, I wish to be unthawed.
A frozen kiss had sealed my lips. I cannot holler for help,
For in the land of the blind, the silent man is lonely.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
Enter my stasis: hands groping in the dark
Yet cannot grab nor call for help. My fingers
Are meshed by frozen teardrops, my feet do not
Trust the floor below. Such kingdom I have made,
Enough to put their walls to shame. I have everything:
Between the fortune and the fame, I stand. All the world’s
Marvels come here and do not come out. You can check out
Any time you like, a song once said, but you can never leave.
I have everything, but the single thought of you—of not
Having you—has turned them all to ice. I am married
To this arctic cathedral. I sleep beneath the sheets of satin
As cold as the hollow infinite you placed on your lips.
I do not wish to stay, but the wrist is shy at the welcome
Of a blade. At times, I would sling a sentence to the sky
To shake off sunlight from a cloud. But you would come
And tempt me with December’s air. Oh, my sweet despair,
You are the eye in the ice, the sharp drip of a frozen spike
That hangs from my ceiling. Darling, I wish to be unthawed.
A frozen kiss had sealed my lips. I cannot holler for help,
For in the land of the blind, the silent man is lonely.
