Part 1:

I could not see

the lines on the highway

but your hand pressed

onto my leg

fingers curling against my knee,

the heat of your body

fooling

the chill from outside.

Part 2:

You took my hand

and said

watch your step,

the crunching snow

giving way to

your footprints

and I step inside

each one.

Part 3:

The morning light swept my face

and before I allowed

my eyes to open

the wind’s howl

slipped into the room;

you pulled me closer

breathed into my neck

and I tugged the blanket

to our chins.

Part 4:

The crawl of Sunday morning

slowed

and slowed again,

instant coffee

sipped to the

tune of cello

piano

and the lightness

of laughter from the kitchen.

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