the cold wall brings me to my senses
as kisses placed upon lost lips
are as insubstantial as the morning mists
that blanket this place in a fog so thick
we can wrap ourselves in these clouds from the sky
and hold each other close on these mixed December mornings
where the sun and the snow mix to form falling angels
and the memories of our past mistakes hold no more harm than 
monsters under the bed, shadows gone at loves first light