Winter kisses my window every morning and
I can see the frost slowly starting to spread,
ivy of ice branching out
blooming on the frozen glass
like opaline fingers reaching out
but I turn my head.
I am an aestival girl
with sunflower blood heating my veins,
basking in Summer's embrace.
I speak in shades of gold and violet.
The sharp sting of Winter grips the air
and I wilt under the intrusive touch.
The cryophilic are thriving
as I mourn the death of Summer
digging out plants with numb fingers
searching their roots for my quiescent king.
YOU ARE READING
Amaranthine (Poetry)
PoésieJust a few poems written by myself. I mainly post on DeviantArt under the username Glasses-And-Blades.
