Melting Point

thin frost
settled and blooming
in the dawn light
what is the
melting point?
it seems
i’ve always known
the freezing point
it lives beneath my skin
it owns my every breath
but now, with blue lips
i search for the
ever elusive
melting point
where life springs up
& flowers bloom,
their scent a haven
where green dreams
are spun out on
long afternoons
under a shimmering sun
where trees, foliage full,
sway—
i’ve tired
of the creak of leafless limbs
i’ve grown weary of the way
the frost sparkles, inexplicably
of how the air itself
tastes cold & oddly comforting

i crave the melting point
where things pool & seep & burst & weep—

i curl beneath the blanket,
sunlight webbed up in my lashes
forming little rainbows only i can see, my toes cold, my soul encased in permafrost begging to be thawed.

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