There is a moment
as it is about to snow,
when flakes float not fall,
weightless, not down but
around. It touches your cheek,
you flash back to your
last innocent kiss,
first brush with contingency,
the cold hot instant.
There is a moment
as it is about to snow,
when flakes float not fall,
weightless, not down but
around. It touches your cheek,
you flash back to your
last innocent kiss,
first brush with contingency,
the cold hot instant.
So poignant Tom, so very poignant.
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