22 Jul 2019

Snowy hearts

Cold texture of pure poetry

Falling romantic on the street,

you, snow of this troubled winter,

Warm up my heart.

Unexpected and desired,

You infused magic in a routine too calculated

And hands that only work,

And do not caress enough.

White future

White hair between my fingers
And apparent on my mind,
Signal the time and story I have crossed.
Natural and unprecedented feathers
That take me to that next for of life
I am longing for,
Since a child.

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