I met her in November.
The icy air seeped into my exposed skin.
While I waited for my emerald-eyed girl.
Footsteps sounded down the stairs-
she stepped outside.
Her smile blinded me.
“Charlie!” her voice rang out.

She wore a yellow sweater, oxford heels, and the ugliest pair of Mom jeans.
She was captivating.
Her eyes reflected the light from the porch-
she took my hand in hers.
The warmth of her skin-
melted the icicles from my fingertips.

She was the sun.
And I miss her warmth.