Thommay’s HeadSpace

The isolated clam wraps around my body,
Like the cool winter’s chill,
That goes straight to the bones,
And I stand on tundra,
Calling out for you,
But the wind’s howls block my voice.
I call out to be caught up by a warm body,
Enveloped, loved,
But all that hits my heart is ice.
Shards that tear through
The Life Bringing muscle.
My lungs have frozen too.
The winter chill bites hard,
And finally I fall over.
Dead.