Winter freezes my fingers to the cigarette between them while smoke krinkles in my nostrils through the scent of burning hearths.

Winter sweeps half-frozen droplets of icy rain like lashes across my cheeks and colours those patches of skin underneath my botom lashes flecks of cherry-coloured wetness.

Winter breathes the darkness, the lonely lament of my whispered songs late on the driveway to nothing in particular, voice cracking in the hesitant cough deep in my lungs.

Winter draws the crystals in which I  paint on the car windows, curly memories of flowers waiting anxiously until spring.

Winter cracks under my feet lifting me to your lips melting the smoke in my lungs and your tongue cherry-blossoms like a symphony unto mine as spring swells in my stomach.

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