You would think
we were
the same.
but we're
not.
The
chaos
of snow
and of
ice
and
of
us
is far greater
and
far more
unique.
She is
the
cold
of night.
Gradual.
And
then
all
so
sudden.
He is
the
chill
of morning.
Insistant.
And then
all
so
quiet.
She is a
blizzard.
So full of
spirit
and of
power
and of
beauty.
A force
demanding
freedom and
struggling
to not
harm
amidst the
flurry
of emotions.
He is the
whiteout.
So full of
energy
and of
light
and of
desire.
A force
demanding
to be seen and
struggling
to not
blind
amidst the
swirl
of confusion.
Separate
we are neither
perfect nor
harmless.
Together
we are merely
a storm
of flaws,
drawing
from each others
strengths.
You would think
we were
the same.
But we're
not.
The
chaos
of snow
and of
ice
and
of
us
is a far greater
story.