I live an exaggerated life,
even colder than this page,
and my Mama knows it.
The winter got colder almost overnight,
its frigid heat is warming my pages.
She cries, letting words freeze to her
face, too fast to keep unfrozen.
I live an exaggerated life and I hope you know this
when your tongue sticks to the page.
She thinks it. Even they get cold, she predicts.
Tries to stop me, warn me.
She is afraid of the rape, because it happened
to her last winter.
If it burns your skin pink please know
how much frost there came.
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