a glacier
tucked under
a tongue
the expanse of
melt, lost
out of mouth corners
that was the saying,
the chewed gristle of ice,
rubble, and freshly formed
speak
that was what you were
hearing, dripping
out of face and heart
and everywhere
the melt of making up
a mind
there gnawed or pawed
spat through that you might
see that flat awful
of white resolve
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