i am at one with a morose mist
it creeps over, draping
it’s moist tendrils
merge, shaping
shivered fingertips
to settle
on prostrate limbs
so inviting this mellow of
malleable depths
..
lament not
these quagmired proclivities
i chose this home of drawbridge splinters
of fenland, forest and fortress
to nestle your frigid winters
and linger in murky,
mired martyrdom
a stagnant slimed moat
together beneath ice sheet
our cloistral bodies still float