The warmth of a dog splayed on my legs,
The warmth of a large sweater hanging from my shoulders,
The weight of a blanket covering my legs,
The weight of a book open on my lap,
The scent of woods coming from my flickering candle,
The scent of cold wind leaking through my closed window,
The sound of worn pages turning on my fingertips,
The sound of my mother talking on the phone below my room,
The taste of stale coffee long ago drank on my tongue,
The taste of the salt from the thumb between my teeth,
The sight of the blizzard raging outside my walls,
The sight of bright snow reflecting the moonlight, a stark contrast to the warm yellow light of my lamp.
I sigh in contentment,
And soak the night in.