It sprinkles down in little pieces,
resting on my head and shoulders, a blanket.
Nestled in the crevices it fills the folds,
and spills over, falling away in patches.
Dampness begins almost immediately,
where my flesh is left to the air;
tiny crystals melting into a trickle,
a river of molten ice running down my back.
How exhilarating to feel life coursing so,
to feel alive and free and real and right.
The directions to this happy place are simple:
embrace the earth and make your angels of snow.
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