Literaryspill

The Dirt Beneath the Snow

Even if the snow falls.
Covering the soft green earth
with its ashen dust,
altering the ground. 
The earth fights back. 
Always evolving.
Never devastating. 

Even if you come back to me
I won’t. 

I won’t.
©Nathalie M. Viorato

The Memory of Rain

the rain is warm now. 
I can feel it 
wet, sharp
like acid trickling down
frail, unprotected skin
sliding into my eyes; 
every tear cries for you,
every tear burns.
©Nathalie M. Viorato