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Timid Poet
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Cold
Chill white fingers
Frigid joints
Aching feet
Frozen from the floor to my hips.
Shivering spine
Glacial bones
Icy breath
Searching for the thaw.
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Cold
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About Me
Bibliophile
I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
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