I had just finished watering one of my indoor plants when I noticed a perfectly round droplet perched on a fallen leaf. I thought it looked beautiful and carried profound meaning, that in as much as water is (re)vitalizing, it was too late for this particular leaf. Yet, even in its lifeless, shriveled and discolored form the leaf still portrayed beauty – at least in my eyes.
Buried under multiple layers of covers
Adorned in my thickest snuggly socks
Yet the cold I feel remains untamed
It emanates from my feet, and creeps
To every inch of my body, and seemingly
Manages to penetrate my core.
I can almost feel my heart ice over.
Cold without you
Cold without your feet rubbing mine
Cold without the heart-melting love I feel when your gentle hands glide sensually over the contours of my bare frame
Cold without the passion that abounds when we embrace
Cold without you tonight