Ice King
My skin petrified, mummifying my hand
upon pools of brittle ice
like curdled blood piercing veins: I watch
the moon bathing its flesh,
in crystal yellow, waxing a sheen...
my pores dilate as cubes slowly melt
when this fired orb heals from above
till its velvet breath climbs into my head,
extinguishing limbo of a daze…until I convulse in joy
when chunk-stone changes into glimmered dew.
*I held ice cubes on my palms and was transported
back to scene of one night when a high fever drowned
my senses… for some reason, viewing the glory
of the moon relieved me from delirium…
Ice King Contest of Skat
( in less than 10 lines)
25July2013
by nette onclaud
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