i have a thin drop of water
between my thumb and index finger
that i play with when it rains;
you leap through the warmth
that comes with your tall summers;
everywhere i look, everyone is the same,
moving, writhing in the heat.
i am jealous. i am still. i am cold.
i am here,
in my southern winter,
my fever of snow.
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 1:24 AM UTC
i have a thin drop of water
between my thumb and index finger
that i play with when it rains;
you leap through the warmth
that comes with your tall summers;
everywhere i look, everyone is the same,
moving, writhing in the heat.
i am jealous. i am still. i am cold.
i am here,
in my southern winter,
my fever of snow.
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