You pour me
a cup of tea
as the sun melts.
My fingertips brush against
the back of your hand
in a whisper of feeling.
I can’t help but notice
this winter is both
warmth and darkness.

By

You pour me
a cup of tea
as the sun melts.
My fingertips brush against
the back of your hand
in a whisper of feeling.
I can’t help but notice
this winter is both
warmth and darkness.