I sometimes wonder if the fire is kin to what I am within
Is skin to what I am within – when darkness lures
A hiss of icy night and eyes too tired to find delight
The swishing of the white tail, paws on icy grass
The tiny crunch – dark whisper, pulls me there
The velvet black surrounds – foolish!
My skin protests the frozen kiss
With breathing centred in the crackling heartfire’s hiss
I cling, my life this warmth… I, Eye – against
The icy tip of calling blade that taunts from glittering sky
Its hand so far away, yet present like a god; not yet!
His thin-lipped smile, my heart a stream of icy, chanted breath
The distant eyes so bright in deepest black
Perhaps… not yet? they feint with deeper cold
I parry – breathing in, retreating – and blood-red heat renews…
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