A Spark

Sometimes I feel
like a match in an ice storm waiting to
catch a spark
in the static frost of my
breathing to survive another day.

Sometimes I think this fear of
the dark is a gift
from those around me,
like a smile holding the
flicker of candlelight

to comfort me

Sometimes I am in shadow
and you are the light
that guards my back,
holding me to the warm cleft
of your chest, until the shadow
recedes as I stain my face with salt.

You are the spark in the
winter wind and you warm
the frigid gaps in space
of my frozen heartstrings

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