FÜR 6 HÄNDE
cold faced, you
swallow a smile,
you break off
an icicle, jagged
eyed, murderous in
your kindness, your
moth eaten faith.
some stranger faced
beast walks past,
and you brace,
wound up with
chill and friendly
malice, ghastly, fractured
but claiming the
whole of all,
a land you
have seen once,
before the snow
cloaked it, a
place to sow
teeth, should the
ground ever thaw.
Friday, December 18, 2020
FÜR 6 HÄNDE
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