Comforting Cold

(Who would have thought that I'd have such warm thoughts about the cold?)

I open the window,

a crack, no more!

Feel the steam rise at the meeting

Of boiling hot

And bitter cold.

 

Temptation is too much,

So wide the window goes,

Yet no more than half way,

Lest the eyes settle from below.

 

Back bent,

Head tilted,

Hands to the mesh.

Snow hits the wall

That snow already made.

 

Tap, tap. Tap, tap.

Snow knocked away.

Fresh air passes by,

I find the need for more,

To go out in the snow.

 

Sweet cold sings to me,

Snow dances by.

Oh what a need!

To be free from all that cannot fly.

 

Push back,

Close the window.

No more dangerous thoughts.

Warmth is good,

soothing,

The caress of love.

 

But cold is freedom,

Wild, untamed, untied.

Temptation and elation,

as random as the sea or brook.

 

The window pushed open,

The need I cannot hide.

To feel the cold on my face,

See the ice that never melts.

 

Fresh air mixes,

with the scent of false peaches,

Refreshing the dead scent,

And giving such a feeling,

of a new summer day.

 

Pricks of cold,

Snow on my face,

Like rain drops, but light,

Almost healing a heart once broken.

 

Window closed,

Taps turned off.

The steam has gone,

But both warmth, and cold, remain.

Author's Note

Make up your own assumptions about what this is about. All I know is that it was half made in the shower.