Longing for the Cold Outside

roots

sometimes, a soft brush of longing
right under my collarbone
spreads like water, warm water
on my chest and spreads some more
breath, warm breath in a night
under the moon, it’s cold outside
out there, where she makes music
day after day, after that night
I slept carefree, careless, caressed
by her song flooding my dreams
flimsy, the pretense of  innocence
innocent too, the play of innocence
out there, where she makes love
day after day, after that night, to me
I  sleep carefree, careless, caressed
by her voice flooding my dreams
sometimes, a soft brush of longing
on my skin, flitters away
into the dark forest of fantasy

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