i write your name in cursive along the swell of the sea

the river stands still from my vantage on the bridge the waves flash frozen in place lackadaisical reminders that the things we do daily mean nothing in the grand scheme as the thick ice groans in the early morning diffusion of light through thick blanketed gray

i can happily recall silent mornings listening to the trees explode as the sap expands as the air is thick with unfalling crystals and walking along the top of the frozen river knowing somewhere a few feet below the waters churn hungrily waiting for me to slip

i call her beautiful and she and i both know that i mean the light that wells inside of her and circulates through her mind that never ceases to amaze me and that if i never saw her gorgeous countenance one time she would still stand as my ideal of beauty

she swirls dangerously beneath my every thought coating my mind in hoarfrost as i seek to memorize every note of her laughter so as i walk these frozen rivers listening to trees explode in the dire sorrow as her light fills me to bursting as the ice splits

i am nothing but an ice sculpture hoping to catch rays of the sun to shine, if only for a moment, the way she does with every single breath and if the world could steal a glimpse through my frozen eyes the cold light of the dreary sun would flare in jealousy of her

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