It started in the fall. Fall isn't very long. Spring lasts longer. I can take spring and it can tease me and whip me and leave me breathless but fall always catches me off guard. It punches me in the gut with vibrant colors and cold wind. Then, its winter and we are no longer standing by a river shivering into our sweaters but we are freezing in blankets and no one wants to leave the fire.
The good thing about winter is that it is a long romance. Night intensifies all feeling and winter--snow against sky, eyes sparkling with champagne--is perpetual night. I can stand with the snow falling into my messy hair and my lips bitten and my cheeks flushed and you will kiss me. I can stand straight under a mistletoe with a Christmas sweater and polished fingernails and you will kiss me. I can run breathless up a snowbank and slip over a patch of ice--spilling red hat, red gloves into the snow--and you will, inevitably, kiss me.
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1 comment:
You took my breath away with that one.
Beautiful.
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