Women throw themselves in front of it
With actual freedom
Faces are drawn out in wild arrays by it
Alive finally in abandon

Screeches shrill sounding
Significant in their speech
Shrill speech they screech
Not ever silencing
Loud
Not tempered but proud

It’s echoes
Of crackles
Echoing
Cackles
It’s complimenting
The women naked and needing
Complimenting

Feel feel. Feel
Warmed for the first
With their own voice
With their own feet on the earth
With themselves

With who?
With whom.

Autumn comes cold
Campfire feathered fathers
“You’re just young and becoming old”

With who?
With whom
Cut off at curfew

Passive apathy persuades
To find warmth away; Away.
Alone again I find myself today
Strong specter in silence
Soft snowflakes
Missing when day breaks
Sleeping songs
Slip into my headphones
Shutter slipping
Sound skipping
Everyday
Monotony
Every movement
Is extraordinary

Cold cuts crisp
like
Cracked lips
With who?
With whom
Cut off at curfew

Now nowadays new
Without you
I have myself to
Have myself too
Cut me off at curfew
With who?
With whom