the cold is creeping in like the most beautiful of ghosts, I imagine her with crystal blue hair and dresses of gauze and the voice of an icebird.
a kiss from her frosted rose lips delights the mind like a river in the mountains, springing with pearls of words in your frosty delirium. you want to dance but when you try you realize you can no longer feel your feet.
I became a sailor in a papership on streams of blue and lavender and someday a harbour will arise on the horizon and then, I'll stay.
photography by zora beer
a kiss from her frosted rose lips delights the mind like a river in the mountains, springing with pearls of words in your frosty delirium. you want to dance but when you try you realize you can no longer feel your feet.
I became a sailor in a papership on streams of blue and lavender and someday a harbour will arise on the horizon and then, I'll stay.
photography by zora beer
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