The ice creaked and groaned under our feet.
This errand will kill us one day
and I hope that day is soon
I'm tired of quotidian torture,
day after day of nothing but
the sameness of death
dark hair dark skin dark eyes dark draperies like everyone
am remarkable only in my listlessness
In my drudging, silent, rebellion of interest
My arms have grown strong
The muscle sinewy and pushing against
My paper thin skin
These corpses are heavier than you'd think,
them being children and all.
The break in the ice is coming up soon
I can see the turquoise crescent cut
into the blanket of white
Its far off in the distance
and then we're upon it
my brother and I stare
down at the frothing pond
Make sacrifice of the slaughtered babies
and start our way back home
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