red paint on a canvas

a crisp winter smile


now the blood that caresses the bone
now the life in the arms of growth
hold your calm to float along
awake in the warmth of paper clothes
a smile is a smile that shapes no one
eyes that aim for nothing tonight
long been since a lie has been told
the winter swaddles the bitter roads
cross it and see, the blanket of snow
wherever the ice melts the soul
a home is a home where time makes sense
warm innocent silence before the bed
now smile the smile, but not too bright
kiss on the cheek, before we catch our death