Monday, February 25, 2013

Think of You

Snow drifts down
from the clouds
to the ground
through the wind
I sit at the wooden table
watching snowflakes
dance to the ground
But my mind is
elsewhere
Golden waves
Quicksand eyes
Your arms, strong and tight
around me
Your breath on my neck
A demon with an angel's looks
You are my summer, warmth, freedom
But the snow blocks my vision
So much snow
I think of you.

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