Purple lilies    
diffusing
into glass bottles of perfume
(like blue tears
raining from the soft sky
into swimming pools
filled with red blood
in summer).
Why can’t the sun
just let the flowers bloom?
The sun shines on bare backs
but goosebumps kiss legs and arms
emanating gloom instead of warmth.
Brains heavy,
like the weight on shoulders.
Boulders binding
ropes tying up necks.
The walls start peeling
like caky fingers and lips,
numb like icey rain.
The clock falls off the wall.
Time is gone
or was it ever even there?
Isolation creeps in the shadow
of a cabin.
Harsh chills,
accompany low temperatures.
Winter is a (painted) wrist.
Blinded by white and red.
Two hands hold the hot sun
burning with relief,
the lights turn off (forever).