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?