Everything snowing down
building up around my feet
I’m running
but still deeper I become
This world of purity
buries me in blasphemy
All that is said to grow here
is plastic in the soil
Yet I cannot feel the chill
I cannot feel the sin
In this land known to be hot as hell
my mind
my soul
are frozen still

February 24, 1993
Tressa Lee Breen

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