Confinement is tricky
When it’s familiar and warm
The numbing and slowness
of fingers and thumbs
Delusion finds parking
Invites unhelpful hope
Under a guise when everything seems
That questions have answers in ice covered dreams
Like a rescue is coming and probably likely
Your limbs then succumb
And survival’s unlikely
In just a split second
As you’re dying and frozen
You wake from a dream
in a morgue in Hoboken