Chilly is the quake of snow in my bones
the fresh, white blanket of memories
rooted in ice.

Chilly is the ******.
the ache
the addiction
to your arms
to warmth.

Chilly is my heart when you are out of reach.
When my pining arms span out
to find only
the coldness
of chilly sheets.

Chilly is the wait–
to be warm.

to be real