Winter MarksA Poem by Shredded Cabbage
I left the window open all winter.
I thought you might return with the cold. It settled in the walls, in the furniture, in the bed. I never believed snow could bruise- until light pressed blue into the room, leaving violet marks across my skin. © 2026 Shredded Cabbage |
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Added on May 1, 2026 Last Updated on May 2, 2026 |

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