White

The snow
is too fresh
for me to admire
from inside
so I will lace up my boots
and cut veins
into its white heart—
every step
a destructive pulse
that will remind me
of another landscape
I only meant to admire
for a while—
a white heart
I never meant
to trample on
or break.

 

 

DeMaris
12-14-16

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