I hope I’ll think back to those days unchecked:
When we didn’t stray too far from our den
In the Latin Eden, we were ship-wrecked,
In love, or in something unnamed, unpenned
When the cold winds were the perfect excuse
To touch each other, besotted, bemused -
As if we were the first. Lost in your blues
Or grey stares, one with the red duvet, fused.

I hope when spring comes we’ll still be frozen,
Together, despite the thaw. The garden
Overgrows with ****-like worries, swollen
And over-ripe. But I am stranded in
Too deep to feel the pull of dreams of spring.

I would melt for one more chance to be with him.