This room, fill the spaces
a strewn heart paints the walls
hiding in secret places
the shadowy end of sentences
where people meet
I feel the cold in my feet
this dance is an alluring frostbite.
Under covers trying to keep warm
brittle bones of clock hands stiffen
if we’re running out of time, we’ll just make more
for within words we are immortal.
collab with anon as regular, myself italic.