I used to be warm       radiance            now I am being disingenuous             not about the warmth

the glowing     the stretching  but rather the tempo   at which a kind            of melody excites

 

exists                not that it exited          it never could                it permeated                indeed growth

but one wonders         the form the structure the shape         the texture       of root or rhizome 

as stalks splinter          symptoms of wither & seasons slow                 at a bitter pace of Winter

 

it almost seems silly   to question       the coldness the packed           to preserve      the plastic

of what now    is my touch on the skin            or          just the skin itself       or just               myself

 

nestled                           inside of a pile              a compiler myself       any compilation really

of horrible historical                  clashes made of people                       not really unlike         myself

 

who all want to live     long enough    to experience another revolution       of planets

I could stay disingenuous & continue              speaking around it, but                       I am not warm

 

it almost seems silly to question why               I have grown colder    living how & where I have

about the splintering                  the greenery nearby  how they survive        unseasonal

grow taller       lush if there is water                  but have learned         of snow in Summer

 

anymore the sun glows gloomy          beyond clouds of seasonal       forest fire smoke

the smells contain       a burning          a tepid heat      somehow colder         & me colder so