“. . .You're Jupiter. . .and I'm your satellite.’
That's what I thought you said. Wasn’t really listening. Just you, being you. My hoverfly. There's always one who worships and one who's worshipped, and best to be on the right side.
‘Mmmmmn, what's that?’
‘You're Iceland. Spewing fire when it suits you, then suffocating with your snowstorms. You're all about the burn. Fire and ice. All the same to you, all locked up in your blocking high. I’m dying down here in the drifts.’
Your voice sears. Melts.
‘You're saltpetre. . .and Ima set you alight.’
That’s how defrosting feels?
🩷🩷🩷
Love the line "...You're Jupiter...and I'm your satellite." Great simply descriptive line! Would really enjoy reading what happens after the "thaw!"