move me to mexico

 November 9, 2011

the air across my skin drawing goosebumps, my hair standing on end.  grasp myself closer, a shiver growing in bones, muscles tight and teeth clenched.  Fingertips numb, heart aquiver while stepping heavy through pools of rain, leaves dripping cold through shining locks.  i shudder.  pulling up a hood to protect my aching ears, to warm my frigid neck, to fog up my glasses.  clumsy fingers fumble to clean lenses, plucking away my crisp sight, leaving soggy lines and colors.  between everything the edges blur, merging together, leaving a vista of slate grey.  i shudder.  the wind blows as i replace the frames that outline my world, that make irrelevant the periphery, that limit my scope.  blinking the mist from lashes i continue on, walking to the beat of rustling leaves and rattling eaves.  sticks snap underfoot, the leather of my boots supple, cradling ankles weak with the trembles. winter is never easy. i should move me to mexico.

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