A poem

Hearing a loud muttering

Under the bridge something was

Her eyes were as lightning

For snow was in her skin

She motioned to a secret door

It was not her at all

But a distant fog or mist

For bliss was raining

And water was a love

For lovers in place

Stands on waves

For you can't be replaced

You are it

The romance of games

Yes all

The game shot through me

Through you

Till heaven opened

TINY.