The warmth of the fire flushes my cheeks and makes me sweat
just like the day I first met you.
Outside, the snow falls fresh; the sunset is beautiful
just like when you first kissed me.
My heart beats fast like bird wings
just like the first time we made love.

In the forest I lay down and talk to the trees about good things
just like when I was talking to you. And not about pleasantries.
The birds outside fly away frantically
just like you when we talked about the news we were avoiding.
My heart swells in my chest
just like the child that was in my body.

Each and everything I say streams out of my mouth
like a waterfall down the cliff side.

I was the one coddling you
like a mother would coddle a child.
You were the one who was crying
like it was my fault.

The warmth of the fire flushes my cheeks and makes me sweat,
and here I sit with a bottle of scotch thinking
*have you ever wondered why minuscule memories can be so loud?