Inertia

The inertia of winter tutors me to be still and grow inward. It reminds me with the blank sheets of each page on the snow bound lawns, the bitterness will yield the sweetness and fragrance of a movement, yet undecided, but deeply known, by the fates of the spinning wheel of destiny. This does not keep me from you, no love, but in the stillness of the death of winter, the secret grows deeper.

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