May 2018
you slept in the whiteness
of blank pages,
like snow—
footsteps along the edges.
your breath rose and circled me,
held me, like your wisps of
silken hair—quiet, never finding
a home.
of blank pages,
like snow—
footsteps along the edges.
your breath rose and circled me,
held me, like your wisps of
silken hair—quiet, never finding
a home.
I miss the wintertime.
