Arnold

Long, random strokes, I Thaw beneath your fingers. Gaze Grey skies turn to blue.   A shadow dissolves. Somewhere warm, a curl falls loose. I am not trapped here.   Green eyes into brown. Happy, I hold your ice-hand. Plush, you are my love. Arnold   Long, random strokes, I Thaw beneath your fingers. Gaze Grey skies turn to blue.   A shadow dissolves. Somewhere warm, a curl falls loose. I am not trapped here.   Green eyes into brown. Happy, I hold your ice-hand. Plush, you are my love.   By Alexandra Betkowska