waiting for the spring of your love

dear darlin’

there is a frozen concrete fountain near the path to the gallery along the long curve of the North Saskatchewan waiting for the spring of your love

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under the bridges and past the Bez and the Sheraton Cavalier accross the street with the white curtains and the carpet stained with candle wax reminders of stolen days

waiting in the white textured moments pressed thin by my love in the precious invisible of Dolce gold and mirrors with pale blue reminders of yesterday

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This entry was published on November 13, 2013 at 8:02 am. It’s filed under Love and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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