The Chill

A tentative chill

Born an instant ago

In the silent-laced fog

Surrounding the Girl

Surrounding her figure

As she waits in the Corner

As she waits 'till forever

Wanting, wanting to come out.

And the Chill, the young Chill,

Lightly skating her shoulders

Her bare, heaving shoulders

Of that strong, strong Girl

And it wavers, then seeps

Into cuts in her fingers

And sends slivers of shivers

With the faintest of whispers

When the Chill calls her name

When the Chill finds her heart

And thus - she is free

And thus - she is gone.

As she lies in her Corner

Lies 'till forever.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
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