November 4, 2008
By Wilmina Sainbert, Valley Stream, NY

it was the winter he kissed me,
walking home,
behind the park.
our breath shot smoke into the air,
i almost forgot how to breathe.

swirls of white fantasies flowed around us.
he grabbed my hand with tremendous heat.
sparks bursted inside me at the touch
a snowflake landed on his nose, and melted away.

if i think hard enough,
i can still feel his fingers
tracing my face.
oh, what joy!

it was the winter he kissed me,
while we walked home,
behind that park,
that i learned
what love is.

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