You can see how a December sky
holds hues of Winter’s coming
as she grows fat, full in her belly,
with thoughts of her lover, who
she wrapped her legs around tight
at the beginning of Summer,
with her mouth still puckering
at the thought of such sweet
then devouring sour, her lips,
she bites, over and over, for Winter,
she won’t be stopped, until the sky,
it grows so heavy with white
that it drops, like a blanket and covers
the earth with all things new and quiet.

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