Saturday, January 3, 2015

When we talk about snow

A faint memory of snow, the smell of it,
 the soft snowflakes clinging to my hair, 
 the cold air biting lips, chin and cheeks.

I remember laying down and feeling the body slowly go numb 
Cold snow pressed against fabric and the sudden sting of snow against  unexposed skin. 

Breathing cold and warmth 
Dragon breath 
A spiral of hot air spiralling into the coldness

Time passing

standing up leaving a dent 

To be filled with soft forgetful flakes

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