
a sprinkling of snow in the woods,
and of sugar in hot coffee
and of friendship on this late November day

a sprinkling of snow in the woods,
and of sugar in hot coffee
and of friendship on this late November day

the cold clung to everything,
except our beating hearts

we recognize the smell and the color
and the sharpness of time passing

that was the year i drowned

there were no regrets

weightless and without fear, she floated away

time caresses her gently

thoughts bounce, random and disjointed
to form an insomnious composition–
a study in sharp slivers of colored glass
that although beautiful,
remain opaque and terribly fragile

oh it holds stars and moons and sparkling glitter that float in swirls of wishful thinking

one look, and she came undone