Winter
She was the chill that he felt in his spine, Everytime the first drop of morning dew fell on his earlobes. The glacial breeze that would permeate through his chest, and tremble him through his entire core, She was the frost on his lips that he tried to conceal with a balm. More than the ache in the bare calves ran, She was the frozen blood under the nails. As cold as stones beside abandoned railway tracks, She made him feel sad with her loneliness. But her embrace felt assuring. Like warmth of a torn blanket on a coal black cold night, He wanted her, Every bit of her, He forgot her name deliberately, So that he could call her WINTER. ...