13. FROSTY NIGHTS She’s sitting opposite to me at the table,
Wrapped in a pink shawl and with a hot, steaming cup of tea set out front,
Just talking to each other,
Enjoying each other’s company, the way it should be,
She keeps complaining of the biting cold,
Her tiny hands have grown so pale,
I rub them in between mine,
Kissing them in an attempt to heat them up again,
Her presence is what keeps me warm,
Seeing her so happy and by my side.
Once she sips the last drop of her chamomile,
We decide to retire to the bedroom together where she immediately falls on the inviting mattress.
Windows fastened shut,
Frost on the panes overlooking the snowy streets,
And floral drapes drawn all the way,
A harsh winter,
The neighborhood is silent and a cold wind blows through town,
It’s a
