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Poem

ice crystals are present within the carmine blood 
         that runs through her veins

     cuts on her soles, leave footprints in the snow ~ steps to follow that remain unfollowed

                  there is no straight path, her movements match a heart's rhythm, it's beat interrupted by cold 
    winds and unknown trauma, into a meandering last waltz - how can despair evoke beauty...

     whilst the life force leaves her body in trickles 
            and drops from scratches and wounds 
                caused by bare branches in the darkness - 
      she moves with haunting grace, a serenity born of depleting sanguinity

            this may be the closing night, the coldest...
        bracing herself impossible
                  but the way she moves defines her

   lips like scarlet blood, skin absent of colour... 
        she disappears as she moves in time with the 
     swirling icy mists of this night

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