Grey
The stark chill covers us, laying bare beneath its frozen grip,
I wish to cradle the warmth from your bones, gazing through a greying lens,
The outline of your eyes, glinting reflections from the streets
The softness of your voice pressing against my chest
Grace. Nature. They fight within me. Bashing holes into the walls of my ribcages,
But at your hand, they fall into silence
And all that’s left is a little whisper, telling me that this is what it feels like to be at rest
I can make out the feeling of your lips
In the dark I can rustle the blankets to find your body again.
Your body.
I never want to be where you are not.
