• emerald02 9w

    Winters without woolens

    First winds of first winters
    Began crossing the deep trenches .
    I wonder, when you brought me gloves
    We could interlock our fingers
    within the same pair as a mark of our love.

    First moon of first winters.
    Began seeking shade in this empty rift
    Made by my arms along
    the sidelines of cold desert.
    I wish, your jacket could shower sweat
    That's what I love to taste.

    First night of first winters,
    Began growing more romantic,
    The quilt is waiting for the bodies
    to swap into another.
    But I'm living with your virtual presence
    With the pillow over my chest .

    Now I'm brewing a cap
    that you forget to brought
    With thread of nostalgia
    Hidden in my heart so
    That it could hide the shallow river
    Drowning along the periphery of my lashes.
    Are your arms still warmed?
    Are your fingers still craving mine?
    Do you still seek to taste sweat?
    Because winters are craving my body,
    And you were the perfect insulation.
    Oh darling,
    Be my woollens for these winters.
    A little longer and for years and years.
    ©emerald02