24 Below
NtR Pt. 2 - A Villanelle
Is my name frozen in his alphabet?
Or is it too soon to think so?
Distant and white, the further he gets.
I’m familiar with the icicles in my chest.
It’s winter for the little rabbit in his burrow.
Is my name frozen in his alphabet?
I shouldered the drift of words unsaid.
He shivers against me; a harsh wind had blown.
Distant and white, the further he gets.
I face that wind with sharp salt to spread.
Removed from my hand, his paws tread, head low.
Is my name frozen in his alphabet?
I put him on a blackened pedestal, he forgets‒
His slip up is fatal, betrayed to broken bone.
Distant and white, the further he gets.
I’m dry and blue-veined. For him I bled.
He can imprint my skin now, like powdered snow.
Is my name frozen in his alphabet?
Distant and white, the further he gets.
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