This Ugly Thing There is this ugly old dried stinky peat thing I love about me. When crossed, my eyes will toss you into a frozen pond in the frozen tundra and keep your head frozen in the freezing water for a minute, a day, a month, a year or til’ you turn blue with the last frozen bubble escaping from you. Betrayed, my childlike expectations demands childlike payments, chiseled coldness and icy exiled silence, until on a whim and without explanation I reel you in from your frosted state. Inviting you to come sit with me in my cozy warm little orange-red flaring fired den to release the last remaining smoldering ash with meaningless conversation.
© SB Joy, 2022
There is this ugly thing about me that I love;) Editing and rewriting.SB Joy
I originally wrote this back in 2005 and spent this afternoon editing it.