Jack Frost bit my lip.
Waves of prickling hair
salute to the sky.
As each penetrate through my skin
I reminisce of the tiny needles that
Once stood erect on my back.
My bones cry to Tlaloc
His tears may dismiss my pain.
Far away.
To be flooded by our angry, warm sea.
Her bloods boils with an agenda.
A cold stiff body compared
To metal rods that leave her home standing.

An epitaph:
Lover, passion, soulful.
Those full pink lips
He could not resist.
Jack Frost, he bit my lip

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