Warm Hands, Cold Body (Short Poem)
It’s been a year since I’ve been here last.
It’s the same house but a different room.
Trees outside are covered in snow.
A small river fights against the cold.
Ice breaks in shallow waters.
At 3 AM rain starts to pour.
At 5 AM it turns into snow.
Here I am again.
It feels oh so familiar.
But I am barely the same person I was last year.
And you weren’t here.
I’ve moved from a small chamber to a double room.
When I wake up early I hear your steady breathing.
Snow crystals formed on the windows.
I open them to lean outside.
My breath crystallizes in the air.
When you embrace me from behind your warm hands heat up my cold body
as you tell me to come back to bed.