A Flurry Dust

By Kelly Grace Thomas

 

 

I count promises like snowflakes

each one unique to circumstance and vow.

The more they mean the easier they break.

Each pattern of past and pretense,

pressing, pushing.

I saw you catch the words on your tongue,

They disintegrated like a forgotten lullaby.

The one you sang to carry me to sleep.

I saw them melt on my cheek and then run towards my lips

the taste of the earth crying in kaleidoscope

we are all so pretty before we melt.