Termochemistry

Bubbling under a surface
Freezing on a gaze

The carnea feels like present tense
The lent feels like sacifice, at last
The days slither around like creepy snails
Carrying clocks on their backs

Riding a horse, a rider chops down roofs and tops
Coming from a small forest the foreboding winds of winter chant

Winter is coming
CO2 fills the air
SO2H2 drills holes in the shields
Things drip like melting

Winter is comming
H2O filling every pore, and falling out of cracks in the middle of the hair
COH sits looking back at me and waves a gentle hand

Names look at me and turn away
The white of the paper refuses my pen
The fabric of a canvas evades the brush

The mind, the my-nd, the body, bod-you, strugle
Barbed wire, scapulae, cranium
Guanine
Timine
Uracile
Cistosine

Skid off the way
Eyes wide shut
Hair pulled back and locked out of sight