#11

Cold. Cold burrowing through one, two pairs of socks. Through flesh. A cold not easily washed by fire. Red eyes, chapped nose. Tightness in the bones of the skull, an overflowing wastebasket emptied twice. Steaming tea cupped, enclosed by frozen interlaced fingers. Lying, resting, healing, waiting, for a clean, clear breath of air. 

Matt SweckerComment