The heart of snow is such a pretty thing.
Soft and cold, but so warm beneath the biting wind.
My hands tremble as I hold it,
Gingerly, for fear it might crumble.
I caress its soft surface,
Gentle digits stroke its winter shape.
Oh! Why are you so cold?
Why is your flesh so frail, like snow?
Why does your pulse chill weakly?
Will you melt away in my summer love?
I cannot bear to hold you.
You weigh the world to me.
A world as light as snow.
Your frost skin freezes me.
Your body light as snow.
Your cold pulse wounds me.
But…
I hold the heart of snow.