Stasis.
Like before.
Nothing new.
Uncertainty.
This time
there will be
no more initiation,
no more transparency!
But is that really me?
Caging my heart?
Restricting flow?
A thickened
outer layer
of callouses?
Such, I cannot allow.
Otherwise,
my heart
mutates
closes
morphs into
rigid
linear planes.
Stasis,
like a deep freeze
with layers of
translucent ice
distorting views.
Perhaps in another life
the ice will thaw
allowing transparency.
There will be
no icy layers
no callouses
no cages
no scars
no fear
no need to protect.
But for now
I squint, peering
into the milky white
trying to delineate
evidence of a
pulsing heart.
My frosty goggles
require constant cleaning.
2/17/14
Cryopreservation
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Forum for your general poetry that may or may not also fit into other forums as well. If you wouldn't want your 12-year old daughter to read it, don't post it here.
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Forum for your general poetry that may or may not also fit into other forums as well. If you wouldn't want your 12-year old daughter to read it, don't post it here.
Autoprune 12 months.
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