Oftentimes i feel

as if i were covered

by a light dusting of frost

like baking sugar.

My skin blue as irises,

smothered by pinpricks

of slender ice like a mountain

blanketed by snow.

My blood itself congeals

like sleet in my shallow veins

and my breath is suspended,

searingly bitter, in my throat.

My fingertips grow ashen

with frostbite as if charred

and the lashes of my eyes

are powdered by rime.

My heart, my soul, are numb.