Silver, I am
brittle against the snow;
tourniquet to my lungs,
the air is no longer mine
but sweeps and swirls above,
sharpening the edges of the mountainside.
YOU ARE READING
Dysfunctional Families, Murder, and Dead People.
PoetryA short collection of shorter poems.
Earth's Knife.
Silver, I am
brittle against the snow;
tourniquet to my lungs,
the air is no longer mine
but sweeps and swirls above,
sharpening the edges of the mountainside.