negative space
white ice-silver-smooth
like an echo
an echo in winter
hollowed of green & boldness
twined & waiting on the fragile sureness of you
a petaled complexity
vesseled by channeled hands of trust
dressed in tea-length-edwardian melancholy
(no, not melancholy !)
that is --blue
.....smelling of wild mushrooms, merlot & november's sky
this is--merely
white ice-silver-smoothness
tasting of first snow upon my tongue
