I hope you think of me every time you feel air brush up against your skin, that moment of denial when you think I have gone, that it did not matter, because it did matter, it will always matter.
Tattoos of breath in forceful torment lay on my flesh, as an unswerving intent of droplets cascade in a shattering meeting of vibration against the vivid drumming of my heart. It would seem like the first step in freezing to death, as I headed out this morning. My eyes swimming in icicles, and yet, I still enjoyed the vast expanse of solitude as the world lay in predawn darkness. Half my usual distance, the frigid air hardly an ideal condition, as my blood slowly, sluggishly, chugged along in my veins. The inability of my face to acknowledge it's suffering, in a permanent crooked grimace until it's arrival back inside my house, to begin it's melt down. My toes are begging for mercy!
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