A Dusting

FairyA dusting,
a spring cleaning
of sorts

in dead of winter
a long, agonizing
January ahead

crack my rib cage
like a window
spill me open

let me out
burn incense
in your name

change my ways;
self stays same

a stubborn saber-tooth tiger
on the scent of fresh meat

She should have wings,
the way she dances like that;
a fairy sprinkling sand upon my lids

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