Some things just can’t be explained,
like your luminous eyes and
spidery fingers tapping
gently against the desk.

Snow swirls down
outside the window,
and here I am on the sill
with my forehead propped
against the chill of the glass.

"Cool," I say, and
it is a dream within
a dream of reality,
and nothing seems to
make much sense anymore.

You break those things
that I deemed unbreakable,
perhaps even my weighted heart.