The world cools down into a standstill. In the marginal space left for me, I walk the thin line. In a balancing act of indulgence I try to reach for experience. My mind betrays me, forming a scrapbook of overlapping images of you. Slowly my view is distorted, gradually fading my vision to black. Like ice burning my mind, the frozen memories cut through me, strangely leaving me untouched.
[This post was inspired by one of my favorite poems, included below]"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice."- Robert Frost.
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