this skin and under
to the electric wind’s
seventh spectrum

to aerating icicle
lagtights of dust
clinging below
dichrotic glass
in thaw, like

blood flooding
arms gone numb
braced for cave
of ceiling

now gifted full
with rush of needles
reminding live
and it’s OK to

breathe
this

as the cube
evaporates
it sparks

cutes me all
electro

with flickering green
between silhouetted ribs