It"s cold outside. Where you are—is it cold there, too?
A frosting, icy chill that blows From out of the north, Numbing my fingers and Freezing my heart.
Bundling up doesn"t protect me, and I don"t want to put on Your clothes, although they Would surely be warm enough.
But they still smell of you, A musky scent that lingered In the bedroom on nippy mornings.
I can"t use the blankets either— They"re all the same, mere squares Of flannel where we had sought out The comfort and warmth Of each other"s arms.
The blue sky overhead Mocks the wintry weather, And I stay away from others so I don"t know if I am the only one who’s frigid— There is no white snow on the ground Anymore and still I shiver at night.
I wonder if you can feel the winter Now residing h
