SPRING AGNOSTIC
Slips & falls & a snowbank featherbeds me—
I dip myself in glitter, eyes glossy with the moment before sleep;
before hypothermia; before drowning.
Tongue freezes to licked wounds.
Can I speak of anything else?
All that glitters is broken glass, they tell me,
all icicles lunge for the cut.
Scales of your armor defrost in my mouth.
My pride is so small, so snowflake, so easy to swallow;
nothing can hurt me now.