It lives in the hush where the winters Begin
A seam in the world that won’t pull in
Not wound
Not warning
Just a line that keeps forming
A frost mark etched
Where the warmth stopped swarming
You touch it and silence replies with its Twin
You name it and nothing is summoned Within
Some breaks don’t heal
They harden instead
A law in the cold
A pact with the dead
Some things refuse
The mercy of end
Some things stay broken
Because they won’t bend