Pale
Your Sculptured skin
All marble white-
With little bumps
Little nooks, sheen
Always so bright.
I remember-
Finger pressed touch
The shivering tingle-
Down my spine.
Beat that heart of
Stone- lips of limes.
Rough touch, slight taste
Little flakes of snow
I’ve loved them so.
How I thanked mum,
For bringing them home.
Spring draws near,
I feel an end,
That disappear
Spring will come.
Unfreeze water.
Another year of
Forlorn summer.
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