Personification of Cold

A nymph is squatting inside the center of my spine, Uninvited yet making himself home, Sucking the soma from these skeletal cabinets of mine, Where warmth and wine inside once roamed. He pinches and pricks my limbs with a stick, Made of course shapen snow, Which sands my body with a cat-like lick, Until I cannot feel either toe. Get this disgusting little nymph or sprite, Out of my body please, I crave for warmth to wrap me tight, And feel again at ease.