The Memory of Warmth
The Memory of Warmth
I wonder about you almost every night. Do you still need to tell someone everything? Is it yet as difficult to be a friend?
I remember that still frozen night when we two traveled so far so free and never thought of caring the where or the why or the how, no love was warmer than ours until the journey ended and we somehow learned to like a fire without the cuddling and the Cognac, alone.
Are the frozen nights only outside of you now? Do you still need your freedom from me and us? I wonder about you a lot at night.
I just know someday we'll forget at least most of our travels together and the struggles to entwine expectations and those steel eyes we sometimes faced from the gentlest of all we loved, but those warm frozen nights will rest deep within and sometimes warm our hearts like the Cognac warmed our bodies.
Do you ever wish you could just tell me something? I wonder about you almost every night. Are the winters lasting longer for you too?