Hot Chocolate (Day 8 Of NaPoWriMo)

Cold skin

Goosebump palette

Shrill shivers

Sinking into flesh

Like the deep end of a pool.

A hurricane ocean

Vicious waves tossing you

Against the coast.

Bones becoming kissed

By the frostbitten lips

Of December temperature.

Frozen windows

Stuck snowflakes

Like the lazy dancers

Of her jewelry box.

Even the trees in the East

Stood stiff.

Hot chocolate mugs

Sipped and gulped

One by one

Could thaw the world

Restoring and reviving

Weathered warmth.

But your icy soul

Will remain the same.


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