She is the shape of beauty -
You must login to vote
an ice-cold waterfall of life
wandering in the snow.
She walks by my side,
arm around me,
hugs me safe in the night.
We walk to our own rhythm -
a love-drunk, slow-motion cha-cha.
She stops me,
presses against my body in androgynous togetherness
of big coats, soft scarves and hot breath.
This is the girl who stops me dead
with her glacier eyes,
halts my pulse with her hot body
and lets me die,
then breathes me back to life.
I stand her in a random garden of suburbia,
a fantasy of living ice sculpture in the falling feathers of snow.
A haze of soft blue night-time bounces from snowflake,
to snowflake, to her,
and stops -
even the midnight moonlight loves her.
This girl is like the falling snow, but softer,
except that when she falls onto my hand,
She is with me
and i'm alive.
Between her kisses
she breathes me life.
I want nothing but her.
first draft with your heart, second with your head.