White over wash

It’s winter, and we’re reading,~

You in a sofa corner,~

Me out here on the frozen wash~

water Wobbling at the rims of my eyes,~

Yours reflecting off a cool, dark screen..~

I blink to see in watercolour,~

Brushing print to faintest grey~

When 2 whoopers enhance the page~

Rising, runny white, bleeding~

and sort of staying on the same page/~

I fold them in to show you soon.