no colder than
Posted on Aug 7, 2007
It's a rivalry of sorts---
Her in the rain,
Flooded, half-blue,
Unmoving,
Versus the flowing downpour,
Annoyed that she wouldn't surrender.
Chill her.
Move her.
Make her.
She stays,
Misted eyes and white-knuckled fingers
Gripping, groping at, no,
Groping for...
Scene flickers.
Split-second nothings between frames.
And her translucent breath of a whisper
Doesn't drown in the riot of water,
As she says,
This is warm.
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