From the book Swallowed A Twinkling Star
.
Chapter: Winter
.
Red gloves like frozen
raspberries rising towards
the glistening sky.
I can reach the rim of it.
Yet I’m feeling limitless.
.
Beauty is not
in the eyes of the beholder,
but in his eyes when
he comes from the shower in
just a towel. Too much on.
.
Bed is an island
and the fireplace the Sun.
The humidity
of our skin could easily
melt a frosty white forest.
Katja Pesonen 