Zoey,
there is a place where poems come to life. let's go there together.
~
she is my
❅ s n o w f l a k e ❅
eyes from blue to grey
from the sky astray
in the cold winter
frosbites my finger
an intricate pattern
in contact shatters
maybe visible
even lovable
❅
❅
❅ ❅
❅ ❅
❅
❅ ❅
❅ ❅ ❅
and then i realise
words i can't verbalise.
❅ ❅ ❅
❅ ❅
❅
❅ ❅
❅ ❅
❅
❅
whisper... whisper... whisper...
