A Winter’s Wood Portrait

The forest lanes
Like branches, mine
Like veins 
Intertwine.
Tracing your lines
Behind my eyes.

A capillary-ous show
Of avenues, of multitudes.
Blood like water flows 
From the root.
Blown bare and leafless
In the winters loot,
My mind’s eye sees you. 

Published by Accalia Smith

I am a student in the UK studying English Literature at RHUL and an aspiring writer.

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