early december

you told me quickly amidst the biting of lips
hushed words that rushed winter into my heart
long before the snow hit the ground
choking with frost the throats of leaves
from green to dead, early december settled
promise of spring never uttered
teeth smash and shatter like glass
behind lips sealed against the wind
with hissing gusts, creaking of fingers
of trees that point accusingly heavenward
faces upturned to swallow the sun
as it, from miles, denies warmth
sighs crystalize upon expulsion
iced and heavy with pain
my breath in gasps inhaled
stinging within lungs
as petals fold to find refuge
hands so cold no other can warm
burning with exposure
damning the lips that lie
tender chapped flesh torn
from the mouth that swears against
the agony of defeat that dwells
far beyond my mouth
in the cavernous pits of the stomach