IceLand

Then, all of a sudden
We are here,
Perched on a frozen ground

Wind slowly whirls away
There is no rain
It only snows slowly down

Food is plenty
We eat big portions in short intervals

A few die every day
The ones left, are left more to eat.

We will have to eat more
There is no way to store the dead

We are bodies inside bodies
Moving in a mute tune
We chew in dark, in day light

We bend to rip a strip
of the soft inside of an arm,
of the soft curve of a neck,
or a pull a handful of the innards

Heads whirling, bodies whirling
Swollen in a fair skin,
We are perched on a frozen land

We drink the juice of the fresh dead

Eat the ones closer to rot

There is no rain
It snows slowly down
Wind snatches bits and whirls slowly away

We are thankful for the veiling frost
Because if anything, anything at all
We dread this smell

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