by Irie Smith
The Earth tilts toward the heavens
And bribes me with promises of dreamlike views
My feet follow the beat of my hearts drum
Fast and breathless
Reminding me how much I like the taste of air
by Alexandra Rochester
Our blood is shrinking out of our fingers and toes to conserve our hearts, leaving us numb and wincing, and later screaming with pain when it returns as a burn. Icicles line their faces, and I watch their heaving chests try to subdue their sniffles.
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