freezing bathroom tiles

sometimes i hold my frostbitten hands
under the sink’s rush of water
catching bubbles with my fists
and letting my reflection drip
through the slots between my fingers
because it’s the only way
i feel warm anymore

silence

words that refuse to pop
deadened kernels
from lips that taste
like sea salt
and stutters
words like brainless
worms
resting in the hollow
of your throat
white as milk
you haven’t seen the sun
in ages
you poor thing

you poor, stupid thing

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