Nothing happened today
except a beast
with sharp teeth
made a nest in my ribcage
he lives there every year
during the cold months
scraping his fangs
across my lungs
when I shiver
it’s him
shaking the ice
off his wet mouth
you can spot us
the girls that winter
has crawled into
arms crossed
jaws clenched
lingering on top of street grates
like vagabonds
letting the hot air from the subway below
lick our feet
it will be a hundred moons or more
before we are rescued
by the sun
before this ruthless biting
melts away.