every joint of mine is itching itching burning up
each with its own needs to be somewhere different but still tied
like all those wispy strands of secrets and whispers that choke the boy I want for christmas.
frozen.i feel the energy palpitate against my nose, across my fingers
crawling up my legs and explode into cold
burning – copper lemon yellow leaves fall from the soft boiled bone of every tree.
transition. i'm trying to find the arms to carry me into winter.
and its all such a mess.