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"Ziema," oil painting by Viestarts Aistars, property of D & S Bowman
by Zinta Aistars
A moment of stillness, silence, of frozen time
with face lifted to sky for its kiss
of slow floating white, melting on warm
skin to a drop, a random tear,
whether from heaven or human eye -
and does it really matter?
Missing your lips, their warmth, their light
brushing over my face, I choose this sky -
its billowing fullness of winter secrets,
clouds low and pregnant with promise
of a flurry that might bury all:
the ache of your absence,
the longing for lips to skin,
the wet now pooling in the corners
of my winter eyes.
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