was there a nun in your family, she asked. it is me, i answered. i live up the creaky stairs, across the missing floorboards. i am a modern day nun, with my own values, morals you wouldn´t understand. i have a brother who comes to visit in the icy winter only and we open the windows wide until our noses are red and frost glistens in our hair like diamonds. he whispers stories into my ear behind sticky fingers and we giggle. a purity like this so fragile flown in on the wings of a painter.
kisses arrive with the melting snow.