Crushing up your staring faces into a squash
No peripheral shots
No getting lost in the blind spots
Beauty in a hive mind
Grimace in the mono
Temperatures are lukewarm
Pulses are slow
The clouds are low
Low enough to dilute the shadows
Low enough to dissipate the hopes once held
Low enough to aide the spells of the fallen
Winter’s taken over pushing out the leaves of Autumn
And it’s dull
Extremities are over – rated anyway
Gloved up and shoved up to keep the frost at bay
But it’s tamed
Never so cold to keep the office door closed
Never so exciting to make your head explode
Never so gourmet to keep your mouth singing
The class stays put but the bell keeps ringing

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