(no subject)
When the snow falls through her fingers like starlight,
she stretches out her mothering arms and gathers each moment to her,
drilling memories
into ice.
She is an ice princess
and her lips have turned quite blue.
She has seen poetic hair turned to glaciers
with tattoo guns.
They were quite beautiful and made her sit unflinchingly still for painfully long periods of time.
Perhaps milleniums
in her castle of snow.
Now when she closes her eyes she sees lightning bolts cascading from avalanches behind her eyes.
They are there when she coughs the wind into being.
A while ago, our princess dreamed of writing names all over her arm in hearts.
But why must it always be a dream of red.
She dreams in red and sees frozen.
The thundersnow comes in rapid fire and she witnessed sacred flames while hiding under coats.
This princess respects the fire now.
But she is always alone.
Frozen until rocks make her come alive for a time.
She follows roads back to their origin, always circling on the ice.
Her mad doughnuts creating eternity.
She covers herself in beasts made from opals
And thinks often on words spun of frozen hair.
Tracing the flowing blackness as she walks away into the sky.
she stretches out her mothering arms and gathers each moment to her,
drilling memories
into ice.
She is an ice princess
and her lips have turned quite blue.
She has seen poetic hair turned to glaciers
with tattoo guns.
They were quite beautiful and made her sit unflinchingly still for painfully long periods of time.
Perhaps milleniums
in her castle of snow.
Now when she closes her eyes she sees lightning bolts cascading from avalanches behind her eyes.
They are there when she coughs the wind into being.
A while ago, our princess dreamed of writing names all over her arm in hearts.
But why must it always be a dream of red.
She dreams in red and sees frozen.
The thundersnow comes in rapid fire and she witnessed sacred flames while hiding under coats.
This princess respects the fire now.
But she is always alone.
Frozen until rocks make her come alive for a time.
She follows roads back to their origin, always circling on the ice.
Her mad doughnuts creating eternity.
She covers herself in beasts made from opals
And thinks often on words spun of frozen hair.
Tracing the flowing blackness as she walks away into the sky.