Intermittent Paradox

the ambivalent cold faltered against the wind. stones scraping the surface. as everything else is sinking.

the flesh stuttered. the math choked. on so many fractions. we're only pieces when we hurt. deeper dug the divisions. until the smallest fragments felt whole.

the obvious arithmetic of pain continued to draw its margins. close to every edge. the fever of broken dolls and panicked thieves. the ugly art of lies gradually swelling with color.

pages spent. in eloquent fictions. hours worn in cracking masks. gravity is blind. distance is deaf.

such is the purgatory of failing friends.
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it's cold. the geometry of when. a crisis of if. a surrender of why.