I'm numbing,
Turning tips pink,
Frosting eyelashes,
The mounds of knees
Fall to the hot floors,
Like little avalanches.
From behind this monumental glaciar,
that glazes the skin,
I peer out at the glowing kitchens
At the rainbow folk,
Perplexed by their animations and delights,
I simply retreat to the warm stove,
Hoping for a heat,waiting for a thaw.
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