A snowdrop weeps at my door, loose-limbed and dressed to impress, the long night ahead. I met the storm, as we embraced the dead sky, the fevers erupted and broke upon the floor, the thick air bitting through the frost. The glacial fall submerged in your shadow, no fears to look behind, a ringless finger left trembling, reaching out to touch the wave, as the dawn was born.
– Josh Fleming
Inspired by and words rearranged with my own from: Pablo Neruda
Image by: Alex Prager, edited by: Josh Fleming