A late winter song

Finally, she came and sat on my shoulder

Her fur against my skin

And her purring, rhythmic and relaxed

Just a little over my heart

Then she took her cheek and kept it on mine

I sighed and wished

That she would stay a little longer

Hoping she wouldn't notice 

The frozen sun in my belly

...

We are the children of noone
We can never truly cry
We only melt once in a while

We digress the other times

The suns in our bellies

Are frozen to ice

Our lake is our sea

Without its tides

Nothing can break the deep snow beds

Connected to our navels

Our teeth continuously chatter

And our feet are always cold

The ankles a little rusty

As we jump up and down

Just to keep them from freezing to the bone

We layer up as hard we can

Always a little more

Lest we have less

It is normal

Normal, yes

Just like ending a conversation 

Awkward or hard pressed

with a smile

We have different smiles

For different modes

ripping the corner of our lips sometimes

Our skins are always thirsty

We shed like snowflakes

On our black coats

Warmth is a faint feeling

Like a view from a distance

When you don’t have glasses on

And don’t know if it is a polaroid you took

Or a postcard you bought

It is always the wind

The wind that rips through clothes

And seizes your core

It freezes the emerald lake

To a dull grey

Replacing the songs of the seagulls 

with its constant roar

But, their bellies have the sea

And its waves

Unlike us, the birds migrate
But, the suns in our bellies

Are frozen to ice

Our lake is our sea

Without its tides

We are the children of noone

And will bear none of our own
We are not hardwired to a place

There is nowhere we belong

We yearn for a feeling of longing

But, all we have is a winter song