Icicle chips in my head, windows glazed over like the coating on a krispy kreme; sweet and bitter cold melts my mind; I am suspected of having a heart it's the same as the frozen layer of a pond, fish trapped in ice, physical memory wrapped in muscle tissue; the brain stem has sprouted a new leaf, ready to unfold if the neurotransmissions are right, powered by the sun and the wind and the water-wheel flow of blood churning over it, powering the soul.