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
in the middle
lying with your arms
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
full of stories.