I: Mist
Swirls in chaste cirrus, clothing fabric in saturation
Permeates as you've been told so often; hides us
Translucent and opaque, air at war
Drowning in thinly veiled despondence
II: Air
Too sweet, unbearable in its crisp flat form
Chokes
A rush to the head when none is in need
I wonder whether Space would be more agreeable, recycled air cannot attack with ancient scents or forgotten pasts
III: Frost
Slender creations, hand made amour: beauty
Swirls in icy breath and flakes of melted design
Unfortunate that this elegance is mirrored in me, archaic and splintered
Ruin and rage inside like
IV: Flame
I am drowning in the cold-hot of it all
Condemned by my memory to spurn attentions
Imprisoned by invisible chains
My resistance is not my own