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Mar 2014
the blizzard
laced its silvery
fingers into mine:
delicate and soft
but disguised
as the frigid,
stinging, touch
of death

an array of
glistening crystals
slept on the
unblemished, shimmering
snow

and the air was vast
and pureβ€”
just like the soul
of the ice
itself
*-C.C
Written by
catherine cui  canada
(canada)   
502
 
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