I sat up all night
and thought about you,
darling,
and your lips
and hands
and the curve of your hips
and the way you pronounce things
and all the simple
tiny
idiosyncrasies
that embody you
and how I'll never again be able
to see those lips
and hands
and hips
without thinking of
the bitter contrast between
summer's warmth
and
winter's harsh bite.