February

The cold hangs
from my ankles
with a panicky grip
and my fingers disobey
instructions,
bumping into each other
instead of operating
simple machinery
like buttons.
My nose
is a foreign object
that leaks.
My breath aches.
I long to unravel
this full-body clench
and submerge into the
deep drum beat
of heat.
Winter,
you have overstayed
your welcome
again.