dampened gravel crunches underfoot as i approach the bank.
still, as the ashen valves in my heart, the glassy surface reflects my watery figure.
daringly, unhesitantly, i peer.
what i see would have forced a shaky breath to escape my throat and form a dispairing cloud in the icy air.
but now, what i see does not even allow a flinch.
for the pith of my bones was glowing through my raw skin;

and my eyes, once slate, had turned
an inky obsidian.