My Imaginary Lover

a gift of crystal cold, love’s token from him.

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A white, white rose his pallid hand extends,

a gift of crystal cold, love’s token from him.

His shimmering shadow descends

-a cold lover.

Stand above me a-shimmer,

mourn my warm bed,

and covet my kisses.

Such temptation,

such pleading his eyes convey,

-such dread and longing his presence bring.

What would sunlight say to such an apparition?

freezing the fragrance of peonies in spring,

crystallizing the red, to perfection, the blood in me?

A touch of his hand,

a pleading I see,

to share the depthless cold within him,

his lover be.

What in me beckons such as him

to share the shelter of mountain ice and swirling white wind – what?

 

Author: SK Woodiwiss and SW Woodiwiss

We are writers. We love flash fiction, short stories, poetry, and novels. We love to write ghost stories but have tried our hand at simple conversations, inner fears and peeked into the madness of the mind. Our greatest love is the novel and its ability to explore character development. We simply enjoy the writing process.

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