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Oct 2, 2010


Snowflakes glitter under velocity of night,
None the same as any other,
Decorating the palm of a little child,
And the ruffled hat of her mother.
Fascination douses her eyes,
The child examines the intricate, hexagonal, perky one-
And in the strange velocity of night
That very snowflake managed to find her.
On the drive home, her hand was cupped
Around that little fleck of snow,
And at home, she made it a bed in the freezer,
It's identity she seemed to know.

She sees only corpses and snowflakes
On the train, on her way to work,
And one day, she finds you-
Intricate and hexagonal with a perk.
The geography of your face fascinates her
And the complexity of your molecular structure,
Her cupped hands await,
As does a place in her heart of a strong tincture-
And she has found you-
Her little snowflake of childhood,
The destined reappearance you guaranteed-
Her unique snowflake of manhood.

There will be no one like you,
Her eyes confirm;
She will treasure you to her last breath;
And maybe, she is to you a snowflake too,
That you will savour,
Until your very moment of death.


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