Ice crystals flow through me
Holding me rigid
To an arctic code
Whose winter plays igloo
To my soul
The mind is all glass within a crystal skull
A fragile network of doors and keys
That lead to pockets of lukewarm dreams
fluid anarchy held sacred in holy places
Never brought to light, or given right to boil.
From this citadel, clockwork knights march to duty
uncompromising in the face of the human spirit,
Which spits embers and cackles devilry
but pauses in the chill as the spirit sentinels pass,
hands open, smiles strung on ceramic masks,
unwriting the equation with a swipe of the palm
Chalk and frost powder the board
With a nebula of possibility.
Cold one
I embrace your polarity from both ends
Within are geometries of worlds uncharted, discontinuation, creation
The frozen harbour of kinships which sail the glacial wind
Under the aurora of aspiration
Glowing brightly in the midnight sky.
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