A meadow dusty with grey flowers

petals–soft and velvet–

the way I always expected dreams to feel like.

Above the sky–a deep indigo

and from the corners a blue fog

creeping closer.

And you

in the middle

lying with your arms

spread wide

like you are making a snow angel–

like you trying to hug the whole world.

Your face–a small oval.

Your lips–a delicate smile.

Your eyes wide and full of clouds.

But when I touched you,

you were cold


your skin

no longer

full of stories.

8 thoughts on “

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  1. Creatively written, feelings deep within an old soul, the use of metaphors, which i struggle with in my poetry…

    Outstanding piece…

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