bare the marks

imagination, it awaits him in his silences. the tree limbs that live, that crawl, distinct in their movement that ripple up the snow as if some horror show he would have seen as a teen. idealistic, lackluster, his lips press together in their cracked combination to rub and drag with one another. smallest of the saliva that drives in his jaw to a grind as he finds her, an eyesore agaisnt the cold sheets. a traveler, constantly on the move, a merchant, gathering her ground and those around her. that was, until he noticed she was speaking to himself and his ears are caught backward. wild-displaced, crazy. viral, his jaw parts and he moves forward. digits extended, how the snow clings to the hair between pads as if creatures to a whales back. independent, but followed, careful, cautious, his tail is curled along his spine and for he is fevered in the way his breath fumes in the air. "you talking to someone?"