A plaid scarf around my neck
sates me like June
Though I know dear December
(every time you whip through)
It won’t quell your frozen teeth
Tugging, shoving your icy fingers (tethered in happy lights) through my hair and against my skin.
I’ve grown used to the sensation
of having a little soul
stolen by your wind.
-LM
Beautifully written
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Thank you so much!
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