The hairs on my arms begin to rise way before I turn.
There's a shift in the air, as if displaced
and a hiss that could have come from me
but my lips haven't moved.
It's true, blood can run cold.
It has thinned in my veins and runs swiftly to my heart
leaving me lightheaded.
And then I turn and face the window
to see it staring back at me...
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