The Snow That Was Dust Outside

The snow made the world delicate yesterday. I saw it lay gently on the branches of the trees outside the windows and thought I should not disturb it.

Coldness really can be a beautiful thing.

She’s off in her own world, with parties and alcohol and concerts and everything else that is heat and passion and maybe even warmth. I dunno.

A friend whom I had been worried about, whom I hadn’t been able to contact in a month, got in touch with me last night and it felt like a burden had been lifted. We weren’t on bad terms, not at all. But it still felt so good to hear the voice.

A coldness that attempts to imitate heat has no fragility or innocence. It is a force, and will not condescend. What I saw outside was something of which I wanted to be a part. It was gentle, and it will be melted gently as these days grow warmer, for it is a beauty tied to hope.

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1 Comment

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