Past her I slid majestically,
My clinical and refreshing scent sent her to whiz yet she was a wiz,
With her sticky, freezing and gentle hands she held me,
Spotless, bright, glistening her face was,
The thumping of hearts, muttering of our bones, screeching of our shoes, whispering of the winds was all I felt in silence.
I’m still here, holding the homely hand of a heroine.
© Clinty_Experience