The Slushy in Solitude.

 

In solitude
its insides
melt like snow.

Soft,
soft but too cold to touch.
Melts in your hands,
like red strawberry slush.

To take a leap..

Bold enough to be the curve
in a world full of sharp edges.
Confident enough to sway its own unique hue.

Influence with elegance.

Not too warm not to cold
just about right
to freeze your palms
but not too warm to slide right through.

Red slush
the perfect hue
in its confinement.

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2 thoughts on “The Slushy in Solitude.

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