Snow

Abstract

SNOW

1.
You can smell it in the air.
I'm coming, you say.
I can't wait for you, I whisper.
I'm rushing to meet you.
Up at the top the air is sparse, relentless, it doesn’t want to hide a single sigh and shamelessly blows it everywhere, there’s no secret it won’t take miles away, whisper to the beasts.
Your whiteness has hidden every time, every path, everything known, vague, and yet ... open, full of possibilities.