01.October.24

Perfectly-penguin pair at hand:

Heads like mini cotton-candy cones,

Flippers like strapless evening slippers,

Eyes as black and deep as a celestial-less sky,

Down gradiented in greys of moon-wintered storms,

Feet prepped to ice-cross with toes patonce,

Chirps stringing hearts into a refrain bow:

Cherished chicks in finger-fence land. ; )