The cold tacts on you like stipple.

The more you battle these things

These feelings they grow inside you

These mutations of your desires

I’m telling the truth the best I know, when I know you’ll know

I know there exist thoughts that only exist in the cold

Janus sensuous outlines of a you that could exist past constrains

It’s the question?

Could I ever be one thing?

Refined , smoothed out and brand new

It’s the potential of a destruction of comfort

A disruptive force that may leave you shattered

May leave you grasping for understanding and protection.