first snow
Then comes snow, unveiling
the world remade in silence,
every surface softened,
and every edge erased.
They stand together,
watching Sky fall white,
and in that hush
they understand
—love is not fire,
but this stillness,
this fragile covering
that makes even sorrow
bearable.
Poetry by anonface
Read 106 times
Written on 2026-06-17 at 15:37
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by anonfaceLatest textstapping against the worldstamped in clay July poetry on queue open every door |
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