the trees are bare; as though there were no parent prompting to grab a coat the skies are blue; they’re fond of the sea, lost in oceans of emotion the air is cold while the sun is out, temperature betrays the climate; far too cold to submit to the longing warmth the range of goosebumps along my arms live vicariously through the snowcaps witnessed in the distance the morning is still, waiting for the right time to make its move there’s a light breeze through my environment, gently presenting a harsher condition
We use a third-party service to translate the website content that may collect data about your activity. Please review the details and accept the service to view the translations.
This site uses third-party website tracking technologies to provide and continually improve our services, and to
display advertisements according to users’ interests. I agree and may revoke or change my consent at any time
with effect for the future. More