seasonal discretion

this is a narrative detailing the last series of photos — branches / c(pl)enter / reflection_1 / frost_2 / reflection_3 / mirror_4 / teethember / drain / shyne

Ever since…every winter bleeds
bittersweet but more bitter than
sweet and I’m fearful for what this
winter will bring. Surely it won’t be
sleep as the blood boils and the
body dormant dare not decline the
will to hibernate if it feels so
relieved. Though relief we will not,
see, for two years is too long to
keep to this worry. It hurts the
head and hides the heart, burying
deep this disease that comes with
changing of seasons. Sea
sickening me as I long for the
Atlantic but fear for its release,
tying me to chains of past and
memory. That home no longer
holds its place for me. Relieve, we
have sought opportunity in the
opposing sea but that was
summer and this is the latter. The
longer part of two centuries dying
in me. This is the blue that burns
in the blood of a cold so harsh it
turns bitter. I keep my eyes to the
sun but fear for this winter.


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