Icy Truth

The dark January night bled an evil cold
Made frigid by the arrival of freshly fallen snow
Crisp, clean and white
Innocent like frost on the mirrors of a car
Coating the truth like fine powdered sugar
She was blinded by the patterns
Left by the beautiful ice
And once she knew the air was poisoned
Turning the brilliant red of her insides to rot
She easily forgot
Still mesmerized by the frosty reflections of
The demonic beauty of a dark winter’s night
This satin snow, once majestic and enthralling
Transformed into a toxic sleet
Her thoughts, which had been so clear
Had sliced through confusion as would a sharp, polished knife
Could solely recall ethereal patterns of frost