First letter of frost

i hate the first letter of frost, the patient pain that tips at my tongue as I forget about all the time wasted and drink in the fall, tumble, decline, description

Of an ineffable device that can land me my dreams, my hopes and my faults into a more reasonable and reliable source

Death seats at the edge of the first sound and letter of frost, so cold and colder and coldest

Melted by the first bite of hot chocolate with exactly eight marshmallows.

Thoughts on this: if you are so fucking in love with me why do I always have to beg you to kiss me when we wake

up: the catacombs of the cataclysm that made me last to the end like a dying orgasm that barely had any thunder;

the end of the story is the last t

Like time,

I hate the first sound of the crinkle of frost

It reminded me when I was first feeling so fucking free, throwing snowballs with my friend from school

Cold-nipped noses all red and runny, Watching a horror movie inside, Felt like our own special holiday, better than Christmas or Hanukkah

But why do I need to hold on to the last second of the coldest part of the sound?