Her voice was the wind,
Fierce with shards of ice.
Her head,
Bigger than a mountain,
Rolled around eating what was left of air.
It was marvelous,
But only to me.
Only 'cause I knew her,
Knew of her.
I grew up around her.
But to the tourists she was mean.
As mean as the frost giants,
Two months she roared like this.
She was born innocent,
Died innocent.
No comments:
Post a Comment