Icy Pain

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She had icicles in her hair,
frostbitten lashes
that could snap like twigs.

No firestorm
was enough to melt
the layers.

Cold to the touch,
difficult to look upon
(such a harsh glare!)

she reveled in her power
to repel, but
in the still of night,

when darkness came,
she shed tears;
Her lashes grew...

an icy mascara of pain.