Copyright © 2013 C.L. Mannarino
All rights reserved.
It is the color of sleep’s edge, the space between dreams and waking up to the muted brightness of morning.
It is the sound of chimes in a summer wind.
It is the taste of metal in the back of your throat after you lick an antique spoon.
The feel of a knife being sharpened.
The smell of the earth at midnight under the gaze of the full moon.
Jack Frost kisses on my windowpane.