Unmelted (Poetry)

No sun can warm her through
or change the colour of her skin
she thinks it cooler to remain
both pale and interesting.

No rose can blush her cheek
that bloom is touched by frost
with no memory of pain
all feeling absent — lost.

Flawless —yet this face
in its white unblemished bliss
waits smooth as sculpted snow
to be melted by a kiss.