Cold and ice,
dreams boiling under skin
ready to fizzle into mist
exposed to winter air
golden kisses
barely warm enough
to feel, the sun.
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-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness
Cold and ice,
dreams boiling under skin
ready to fizzle into mist
exposed to winter air
golden kisses
barely warm enough
to feel, the sun.
Thank you for reading! Please follow or subscribe for more poems!
Want more? Check out my Patreon!
-Alina