I embrace the relentless winter storm, I cradle the snow on the ground's regalia and I slide slowly into the white kingdom of the shrouded whispers where the sands have no name, where the urns of your scent are written in the air. You are the colour of a forgotten tale, my surrender, the never-ceasing story of the clouds, my wakefulness, the dominion of the unknown caresses, the volutes of dreams.