Writing this strictly by the light, of our 5-mile-long town,
reflecting back at us in
the
widest
milkiest
shroud of
snow.
a cloud that sits
on your
chest
and makes you wish for the sun in a way you never have.
Writing this strictly by the light, of our 5-mile-long town,
reflecting back at us in
the
widest
milkiest
shroud of
snow.
a cloud that sits
on your
chest
and makes you wish for the sun in a way you never have.