Saturday, October 6, 2007

faulted flakes

it’s funny how even snowflakes aren’t perfect,

and then if one slipped through the net

and made it


it melts,

and is destroyed as it hits the road

or a passing car.

How a perfect landscape is covered,

lost, when the sun finds it too hard to hold its head up.

One second, a smile on your face

seems like an hour ago, when the frost of your temper

heats you up like a boiler

and my imperfect flake melts

even quicker.

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