We revel
In the satisfaction
Our desires are unfounded
Fresh, clean articles
Resulting from what we want
Or what we covet
Is it such a sin?
Fulfilled longing
Resulting in happiness
We line our new things up
Rows of prestige
Admiring them far too much
Showing others what they don't have
Is it such a sin?
After all
We are gratified
Blissful
For if it is a sin
We yet own another thing

Frigid
The numbers drop
Like quarters through a slot
The cold is hard
You count the degrees
They tick one by one
Down they fall
Winter's cold scrapes at you
Leaving the grey underneath
That tight pain
A knot in your middle
As you lean into the wind
Walking briskly
Eyes ******* tight
Hands in unforgiving lined pockets
Those days
Where nothing can warm you

The further away
The stronger the pull
The lesser the doubt
The wilder the drive
The warmer the heart
The greater the want
The tighter the embrace
The deeper the love