Eight Inches

Winter lays it's bitter lips upon my flesh
Again
Crystallizes my blood
Until shards desintergrate me from the inside out.

I huddle in my conscience
Warmer with dreams of flight
And a blue veil of clarity which seems lacking now
Here in nature's steel,
Unmoving and brutal.

I long for the sun's love
Think on past frolics within it's rays
Naive ejaculations of achievement and conquering
When alas,
I was the one being conquered.

Long to feel again
Like everything was virgin
Untouched by the sheltered me
Just ripe and waiting to let their nectarous juices flow
Stain my fingers
As they grasp frantically
Because this time,
I know the importance of their sustenance
And I cannot
Will not get enough from their groves
Because I haven't all the time
And I know this all too well.

Winter laid it's bitter lips
Gave me a sweet dream of my everythings
Everywheres;
Left me to huddle
Counting down the days...
©2014clarencecbess