Dainty snowflakes dance down from the sky, a concoction of whimsy and nostalgia.
I see your face in the flurry, the nippy chill numbing my senses and bringing me back to the days we first met.
I remember the first day I kissed you, our lips ridden with nicotine and nervousness.
It took about two weeks for me to muster up the courage to kiss you, for our mouths to speak to eachother, without words.
The sensation of flesh against flesh, wrapped in eachother, and the fireworks I felt in that moment remind me of the windchill, sending shivers down my spine, igniting goosebumps as though you had pushed down on a TNT trigger, hidden inside of me.
I remember how I had pulled away from our embrace, hid my face in the folds of your flannel out of fear of being rejected- giggling and apologizing for the sloppiness of my love.
You wrapped me up in your arms, quieting my apologies, warmth radiating off of you like a space heater- a warmth I knew I could never resist ever again from that moment on.
Because of you, I've learned to love winter, almost as much as I love you.