Though she was just a child she felt the winter touch her very soul and in a way it has never left. It still cradles her with cold fingers running through flame like hair and out across the keys of her heart.
One black, one white, but all with the same deep shade of blue hidden beneath. It is the colour we both know, and never deny as it speaks our hidden truth for what it will bring to our bodies this winter.
She will toast the long past nights sat playing songs as the ghosts listen in on what she sings to the northern winds. The notes she chooses so carefully mean so much when heard by the ears that hear her truth.
She is free in those notes.
She is pure in that place.
She is the winters song that she was born to be.