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colder than a well diggers ass, witches tit and boston in 1992

February 10, 2014

The relentless winter snows, sleets, is grey and windy bitter and bleak. The sunshine peeking out of the blue sky reflects down on the white icy grass making me squint against the glare. There is only warmth in my bed where I am alone under the weight of my quilts wishing my feet would stay warm. I will close my eyes and wish for spring knowing my wish will be fulfilled if I am patient with the passage of time. It will be warm, my bare shoulders will brown and freckle inviting skin cancer and more aging. My legs will be bare and shaved more regularly. Sweat will trickle down my neck and I will dip my feet into the water. For now, though, I will wait like the buds on the trees, waiting for the weather to change.

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