If wishes were snowflakes,
then I'd be responsible for the wonderland
outside, piling up almost as fast
as the words being whispered from lips
that miss the taste of you.
This, the shortest of months,
stretches out before me longer
than all the others combined;
for you will return at its end
to a heart that longs for your warmth.
Twenty-nine days, a month unfinished
yet neverending.
Just as we are.














Comments
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Website
Forgive my frankness if this is too forthcoming.
Well done, and I really liked the part about the snow flakes and the wonderland outside. Very well put together!
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If dreams are like movies...
Then memories are films about ghosts.
~Kindred~
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...you've bled me of my emotions.
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