Poetry

  • Pale Love (12/1/2018)

    letting out a soft moan, she
    brings chills to my skin
    and paralyzes my bones

    her icy breath caresses the nape
    of my neck, she is nostalgia
    dark hair and pale eyes
    her lips whisper my name

    my nose blushes in shades
    of red

    my fingertips ache
    in shades of blue, I meet her

    soft, pale body with the
    harshness of mine and
    once again, tangled together,
    she has come–

    my love, December.