Cold Hands and Cold Coffee

<3

With verses trapped and my wavering hand

marks paper and skin with blue ink.

It is darker than shades which return my gaze

but it reminds me of you, I think.

In the calm of the dawning, the morning

breathes a chill on the tip of my nose.

Upon returning to the warmth of my blankets

they feel less like cloth and more like your hold.

White frost that cakes the kitchen window

is as pale and as arctic and your fingers.

As is my coffee, now wintry from the waiting

just like the cup on which your lips will linger.

From the cupboard the call of a little brown bottle

pours peppermint into my drink and my mouth.

Sweet stinging pricks at the biting cold

but with you I feel warmer when the birds fly south.

In an effort to thaw I quickly dress for the day

in a flannel I stole off your chest.

All day I will bathe in the comfort of your scent

and in your thought tonight as I undress.

I brave the dark morning with your song in my ears

while you traverse the foggy earth on your own.

When your frozen hands meet mine I wish it were summer

but you appear in the winter and I am not alone. 

Reviews

[Saddam]

White frost that cakes the kitchen window
is as pale and as arctic and your fingers.
As is my coffee, now wintry from the waiting
just like the cup on which your lips will linger.

Just beautiful, I like your every detail which you have painted there. Simply fabulous.