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.
I originally wrote this back in 2005 and spent this afternoon editing it.

SB Joy

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