the stench of winter by: e.l.

Frigid! Your bland foul aroma of crisp stilled air. lacking motion and fulfilment demise stuck in time. Who knew the deceased seasons of spring and summer would fall into your icy grip? Displeasing our noses with the sting of you odor. Can we not cover our faces with mask, scarfs, or the like, without suffering the horrendous onslaught? You and your filthy stench like a wrench designed to twist every inch of our intestinal walls belching vomit into the once plant produced progressive pollen perfumed air? But your back is turned without care, conceived to be cold hearted smelling like a scent uncharted. creaking and cracking painful like a splinter. filled is you reign with the stench of winter.