In a world of my own, I sit
watching the icicles form and solidify
covered in frost, I shiver
reveling in its tingling sensation
from afar, a bright spark shimmers
beckoning...
drawing me helplessly towards it
I reach out, afraid to be scorched
but its assuring warmth touches me
embracing my cold exterior into its core
steaming the trails of water into vapour
Within the comforting bed of sensations
the last thing I saw was that of the icicles
as they melted and dripped
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