Your hands are a slow, deliberate script
snowing cold glass frozen in marrow
each syllable, a fucking shard
where my lips have been
carved into your flesh—
up to my toesies
the cunt has worn
Into a hollow, seeping stare
pulsing for sharp kisses in the air
you slice through frozen lines
where words can’t stop bleeding
blizzards of bones rattle
fuck every mind till–
Where frozen words can’t stop bleeding
now every breath an obsidian shard
and every whisper splits the bone
your pulse a funeral drum
each gasp a razor hymn
screaming in your arteries









Hauntingly beautiful! The well chosen imagery succeeds in creating a cold and hurting atmosphere with words that cut like ice shards. Great job here!
We thank you, Elke.