your veins
are brimming with ice
but mine carry
boiling blood
the frostbite of you
douses my fire
and soothes my burns
you're dancing with the devil (me)
and I'm spinning in a snowstorm (you)
—paradox of me and you
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
