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Poem

The cold is still spreading, engulfing me,
Down over my head to my eyes,
And as it passes over my eyes they are blinded!
Bright! Direct! Blinding! Not soft and dim.
It is a cold light, like the cold on my skin!
And I feel movement around my cold skin,
Motion in the space around that carries the cold,
And as I blink away the bright, I slowly see shapes,
Things foreign and far and sharp,
Edges, angles, colors, light, dark ...
And MORE cold ... but the tightness,
The grip is GONE! The vice is gone with the cold!
And it slides quickly down over me.

The cold and the loosening grasp,
The constraint is ended ... the clasp eased,
But in it's place is cold ... frigid and sharp ...
As sharp as the light in my eyes.
Something moves around me ... many things,
Touching me at different places, rubbing.
Now something sharp at my mouth ... it pushes in,
Sucks at the inside of my mouth, pulling OUT!
And the cold rushes in! Into my body!
Into my very BEING comes the cold!
I suck at it ... cough, cough again, spit,
Cold! Air! I breathe, and cough, and breathe ...
I am cold! I breathe cold! I am me ...

I am BORN!

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