Please don't let me grow cold like the winter
sky. I fear the ice threading through my lungs,
the airless quiet. There's no comfort here,
no warmth left in my hands, no prayer left sung.

I dream of summer like a child does faith—
a garden, every color I forgot.
Still, frost carves its way through me, naming breath a fragile song, and I am all but lost.

Is there a mercy...