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I watched the shadows dance over your face in a way I had never seen before. Tiny geometric patterns changing every time I blinked my eyes. 

"Make them dance."   I thought to myself.

You turned your head as if you'd heard.

They stretched themselves down your neck, curving slightly over your collarbone. And then they were gone, even faster than they had appeared. 

sometimes when I brush my teeth I taste the smell of the greenhouse. isn't it funny how you can taste a smell? i'm convinced there are flowers growing in my chest. vines wrapping their way around my ribs, taking root in my veins.

famished eyes feasting on the snowy landscape.

little things make me laugh.

like a rooster's feathers getting ruffled by the wind.

and then I obsess over little things. 

like how underrated white paint is. 

12.7.14

Maybe if I fold this

paper up so tight 

the words will fall off. 

      F

            a

                 l

                     l

right into your hands  

I want so badly to hold. 

Stretch is a verb I like very much.

Days became months and I forgot to open the window to let the bad minutes out.

"Snow Woman" does not have a nice ring to it. That's a real shame. I always made snow women, with evergreen skirts and pine needle hair.