Hour 2: First Snow

It drips off slowly

Off the corner of my sleeve, 

The side of my smile, 

Maybe I will stay a while 

And let the flakes fall 

and melt 

Let tomorrow call

What I felt 

today, 

Hope, as she falls to the ground, 

Well now my hair is wet 

And desire set, 

In the tips of my fingers blue 

The cold

The snow 

Doesn’t sting, 

I embrace distance, and wring

my heart, of my home scalding.

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