drunk_on_poetry

Winter at last!

In my room, listening to the sound of your voice

I still remember it as a calming noise.

The window wide open

Your words were swept out by the cold wind,

Picture it all: me in your fluffy sweater.

The chocolate steam warms our hands,

Like the fire that used to burn in our hearts.

Winter at last!

Winter at last!

I got my best gift

On my 17th Christmas Eve.

Winter had passed!

Winter had passed!

I keep writing you letters

But the place where I should write the address

Remains untouched.

Now, every Christmas Eve,

I burn them one after the other

At the kitchen sink

Waiting for the milk to boil.