Inside…
the touch, frighteningly soft like white
bear rugs that accent deer mantels in luxury lodges.
Strikingly cold, yet warmed when fingers
run through fibers of fine fur.
Outside…
stars twinkle through bay windows
And puffs of smoke rise above rooftops.
Frozen branches glisten with snow--
the picture is as simple as it is complex.
Internally…
two voices echo one another as
shadows collide under unobtrusive lights.
Embracing the idea, but challenging the concept--
fatal aftermath.
Externally…
time melts with the capsule buried
66 inches under the foot of man.
Seasons change, grounds thaw.
Only brute strength and a shovel
can extract year s of memories from rotten soil.
Why spoil being frozen when hearts can thaw
in the dead of winter?
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