Poetry / January (8/2 poem)
She comes in the night, wrapped
in silver and white
and her cool kiss burns my mouth.
She is sharp as ice, tongue frozen
as the stone path in the garden
where the dead utter broken English
beneath
the layers of snow.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
There are no reviews of this item.
Review item
Add to favesCreator
Relevant Links
Item Stats
GENERAL
0 Reviews 0 Comments
Version 1
Latest Activity: 3 months ago
REVIEW QUEUE
Appeared in Queue: 0 Times
Skipped: 0 Times
Ratings & Rankings
