Thursday, November 20, 2014

Warmest Time of the Year

It is a window clouded over
with the breath of a thousand
hopeless romantics 
tracing initials off of
their hearts
and onto the glass

It is a mug of hot chocolate warming
snow cold, red rimmed fingertips
and filling up your insides like
a batch of lava poured straight
to your soul, right there
to fill you like a cake
that isn't as good without its filling

It is a pair of fuzzy, striped toe socks
and matching pajamas
so that during your sleepy, messy
movie nights you can brush
popcorn crumbs off your lap
as an excuse to finger the material
that takes the form of a caterpillar's cocoon, 
a second layer of skin
much more effective than the first

It is the warmest time of the year,
where we are so cold our breath leaves
our dark, chapped red lips in
clouds of white 
and even cars, who are so
keen to hide their life from the world,
allow themselves to exhibit the simple
motion of breathing 
with the rest of the beings
as they emit their own puffy clouds,
chugging down the road 
and breathing the kind of
breaths that really, truly, literally
makes the world a warmer place

It is when magical white powder
falls down from the heavens
like God Himself is enjoying
a slice of cake
and when he blew out the candle
some of the sifted powder fell down
so that on His birthday we all
could partake in His celebration

It is when the sun sleeps early 
so the moon can have his fair share
of time in the spotlight

It is when dark lipsticks reappear
and fresh changes, too
as we decide long hair is good
for the time being
for it is good at it's job
of serving as a built-in scarf

It is a thousand books reopened and reread and relived
and a thousand worlds and characters and lives
who willingly lend their lives for us to borrow
while ours are put on hold as the blizzard rages

It is when we are alone 
and forced to seek out the 
warmth hidden in the cold
and it is when we are shown
just how much warmth
can be found during
even the coldest time 
of the year

It is winter


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