The snow lofts on the cities cold air. The drenched earth, to cold to drink in the wet, spills pockets of slush and snow onto our paved plastic world. The cold slows the city down and the skirted girls are bundled in their polyester puffed shields. A still, tranquil quietness presents itself and the heat from the coffee escapes the cup much like we might imagine a soul departs its host. With chilled dried hands the vain cover their hair and curse the moist air. The homeless huddle in quiet desperation hoping to fight mother’s winter’s rude return, her warm ***** of summer seems so long gone. My transparent reflection on the glass separates me as I gaze into the gray dismal sky and dream of walks, gloved held hands. Pulled together at the heart, the cold does not pierce loves warm undying barrier. I imagine her porcelain skin, blushed cheek, and red wetted lips as the chilled air crystallizes the sparkle in her sea green eyes. She sees through me. I don’t exist. With empty cup and left tip, I wake from this dream, put on my armor and walk past my life back to where reality and angst wait.
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 8:52 AM UTC
The snow lofts on the cities cold air. The drenched earth, to cold to drink in the wet, spills pockets of slush and snow onto our paved plastic world. The cold slows the city down and the skirted girls are bundled in their polyester puffed shields. A still, tranquil quietness presents itself and the heat from the coffee escapes the cup much like we might imagine a soul departs its host. With chilled dried hands the vain cover their hair and curse the moist air. The homeless huddle in quiet desperation hoping to fight mother’s winter’s rude return, her warm ***** of summer seems so long gone. My transparent reflection on the glass separates me as I gaze into the gray dismal sky and dream of walks, gloved held hands. Pulled together at the heart, the cold does not pierce loves warm undying barrier. I imagine her porcelain skin, blushed cheek, and red wetted lips as the chilled air crystallizes the sparkle in her sea green eyes. She sees through me. I don’t exist. With empty cup and left tip, I wake from this dream, put on my armor and walk past my life back to where reality and angst wait.
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