A soft touch like feather.
Like snowflakes in winter.
On the palms of your hand.
So soft.
A touch.
A gesture.
Like no other.
It was so cold. Too cold
Without it.
The storms, behold their power.
And yet, that harsh weather,
It’s melted.
Like silk, so smooth.
So willing.
It flows gracefully, like river.
Evapourates.
Forming clouds.
Soon creating droplets
That ran like rain.
Profusely.
Indefinitely.
So soft.
A touch.
A gesture.
Like no other.
Dedicated to my grandma. Miss you.
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