Poezja

While delaying gratification, 
you stripped-down 
to bones. 
 
It was winter solstice, 
when day and night confronted 
each other─ 
 
in negativity. Tracking 
the frozen footprints, my absence 
was generic. 
 
I dread the barrenness─ 
of looks, the unwritten wounds 
seeking the healer. 
 
The avalanche falling 
rapidly on the streets, with placards 
demanding the gallows─ 
 
for the tainted. The 
victim lies still. Ashes fly 
back at the purebreds.