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Cliona Calnan Aug 2010
My Heart must be one cold, hard thing
to think such a beast a beauty.
Dusting the land in a icy glitter,
its aim to redden the noses and
bite the cheeks of all who pass.

But i let it in,
aware of animals need for warmth,
and trees need for light.
I am selfish.
I want to capture the scene
with a click of my eyelids
and store behind beautiful.

I feel dark,
a guilty pleasure to myself.
Heart; rigid and stubborn as a broken clock.

But thoughts of Who
What
Where you are
trickle syrupy into my heart,
releasing the icy grip of the elements.
I feel loveable, normal,
like i could see good in anything.

I am scared of your power,
but in awe of your skill
for chris...

— The End —