Sitting on a bench in the middle of Winter watching lost souls wonder about. Something about Winter that feels lonely, that brings back cold distant memories that only a mundane sky could reveal. I see it in your face, and in you eyes, and even in your lips. You’re thinking of past frigid seasons where you walked home excited to see the one you loved wrapped in a blanket upon your living room floor on a Monday. You’re thinking about how you anticipated getting off work the entire day because you just knew that their face was that warmth. You remember walking and staring at your feet because they weren’t moving fast enough to get you to where you just knew you wanted to be. I know the look on your face, because I feel the same. Sitting here on this bench I remember meeting you on a night below freezing. I remember your body heat and I remember how hard it was to remove myself from your warmth on mornings where it actually hurt to leave you. I know that the memories seem so long ago, but I’m just sitting here cold, and maybe the warmth of memories is all I’m ever supposed to have left of you.


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