Scrambling for the surface,
gasping for the air that will not come,
a version of acceptance.
Arms,
precise in their capture,
surrounding-
body to the icy earth: too late.
Lips to lips,
thaws the frozen heart.
YOU ARE READING
philophobia
Poesíait isn't always as it seems. first breaths of love, first breaks of hearts, first year. October 2013 - May 2015
