Snowslip
There
was a thin layer of snow on the ground
that
morning,
of
sparkling dust on your eyelids,
and
a crown of droplets in your hair.
I carved your name into the sky.
It
bled into the treetops,
that
stain of sun that
leaked
through.
But
you smiled anyways.
And
I painted your name onto my lips
to
make sure I wouldn't forget.