I'm Melting I'm Melting!

The first snows leave a pile of puff. Your imprint will be left in it with the slightest perturbation. Feet or snow angels, your choice. There still isn't enough of it to fight back, take a form and defy your pounds of substance.

I'm like this too, the early snow. I lose shape to imaginings. Perhaps he is thinking this or that, I repeat in my head, and then the doubt presides as queen. Or the impulsivity can also reign. Check check check a thousand times over because time is too slow to my musings. Demands of destiny are made in half-wishes and whispers. Like early snow, malleable and melting to everything.