mid-winter will

your mid-winter will

is icicles on eyelashes

plum cheeks, lips kissed

to a pole / do not slip

on the dark afternoons

night is a long, sore habit / yes

your mid-winter will

will last as long as time

patience is futile and quaint;

we are here for now

like icicles on eyelashes

in the thousand eternities

before your next blink

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