Winter
warehouse where he let you hold the key to your chains and locks. And that is when he slapped his chilling breeze straight across your face. There was no room in Bethlehem. There would be no easy escape. He dressed you naked in your mothers makeup, with fake eyelashes and pearls. He sang you laments in Christmas carols— and fed you wine with peppermint bark. Winter was a cruel one, so you shivered to feel warm in his cold love. Winter said he would like to keep you forever, but he promised ...
Author: mattkaneart; Tags: seattle chicago poetry poem
