When Beauty Swallows

i stir a pot of orange and cloves
boiling rapidly up on the stove,
a steady, anxious heartbeat.
while spices dissolve, wet warmth rises to meet
the air as dry as my cold and cracked elbows.
a Rose unfurls in a vase on the window, 
and as winter melts in surrender to Spring
May i wither into You.

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