Winter is so much colder when you're alone,
so much colder when you come home to an empty house,
dark, and you've to turn on the lights yourself,
when you know that no one has been waiting for you.

Winter is so much colder then,
when you bring a bottle home, in a black plastic bag,
and sit drinking on your bed, wondering
why the liquid that burns your throat
doesn't warm your heart at all.

Winter is so much colder then,
when you wake up in the middle of the night,
your feet freezing cold, and you know that holding them
in front of the heater will not be any use:
they--and you--need the warmth of somebody's flesh,
need to play hide-and-seek with another pair of toes.

Then, winter is so much colder then, when you're alone.