Founders in the Snow

founders

You are light

White.

An instant melt upon calloused fingertips.

An icy adornment for strands of hair,

Patches upon the upturned collar of a coat,

Happiness for the blissful toddler;

Dismissed by the monotonous

Murdered by salty lashings.

I wonder how it is to be buried

Under your weight and blinded by your purity ?

To wage against your hand rather than

Place my foot upon your back

Crush you between gloved hands

And mould you into an unoriginal fantasy?

I long for you between the stony walls of West and East,

Until the carpet of the earth becomes crunchless

And we retire to the comfort of the rising steam.

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