cold air of snow escapes your mouth i planted my last and only desire on.
did you, could you, do anything with it?
perhaps you ran with it holding it forever in your poetic dreams painting it away in your red canvas when art asked you for blood.
or perhaps you sat with it for eternity letting it settle in your stagnant earth as an integral part of your every submission.
or may be you shared it with lips of consumption pretending to be your once lover turned traitor who abandoned your beloved mountains.
it could as well be that in disgust you buried it in a lifeless corner you are too fearful to reopen for the freedom that it carries.
i have left you with my last and only desire. whatever you do with it, do not deny our moment in the land of borrowed snow when i gave you my only hunger and you inhaled it as your last bread.