Fear Of Good
Hotelier
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Skin, caked with sap of pine,
can't catch against my roaring mind.
The coat slips off my etched spine.
It's a weight no longer carried
and I'm freezing.
A message to my brother sky,
I long to hold your hand tonight
but when up against this summit's height
I'm tense, I'm small, I'm speechless
and I'm freezing.