дек
22

Burns the eyes with its niveous touch.
Sparkling little crystals dance,
Sinuously swirling through the ether
In serpentine embraces,
Towards smoky chimneys that hide
Fake family portraits.
The quiet of this wintry silence
Caresses the faithful green gables
And the ice flowers painted over the windows.
Hush down your lips,
Listen to the echo of this stillness
That engulfs the city into an oneiric fantasy...