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Literature Text
talking
what is it good for
when you say
absolutely nothing
so beautifully
in december.
the sound of your voice
on my lips is a
frozen kiss in the
winter sun,
smooth icicle
tongues melting
together as one
cold river.
do not lie to me;
lie with me
in the arctic tundra.
our possibilities are
thin tendrils
snapping underneath
our remembered heat.
find me a constellation
in this crisp night sky
and keep it in your eyes,
let it twinkle to life
when you think of me
coming into
the snow-laden
forest clearing
to find your warmth
with my frostbitten
fingertips.
Suggested Collections
partly inspired by Owen Pallett's The Great Elsewhere
more of the same.
© 2013 - 2024 0hgravity
Comments18
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I for one like the 3rd and 4th stanzas.... 