Creative | Posted by Ana M on 04/23/2009

Untitled

Your fingers dig deep into my skin cold and calloused, they didn’t seem apt for impalement before but sticking from my sides are the words you leave me with twisting my organs into ice as the sink farther  and I am dense. But somehow this new rigid body is more limp than the form that came before it. No one told me that worth wanes in time  and flames mutually ignited could be claimed as one’s own.   I try to claim what is left of this light it might help me regain what I have lost if your body wouldn’t shield the remains and dig your fingers deep into my flesh so that they might stay warm. I will simply wait to thaw and melt, the warm liquid condensing on my cheeks, until I find that form again.

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