What she is...

Like December,
She’s cold as snow.
Picturesque.
The face fit for any Christmas card.
But she’s cold.
She’s ice.
And she is winter,
All that is winter.
Nice to look at,
From a distance.
Not to touch,
Or be around for too long
Over-exposure.
She stings.
But she’s still
So goddamn pretty.
Yea, she’s like the snow.
Until you realize that she isn’t.
At all.
She melts,
She’s bright,
Warm.
She's a thousand shades of spring.