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Cold January. Heated furnace. And you, my dear, refuse to sleep. I think of you. And lights across the window sweep, And droplets freeze upon its surface. My eyes meet yours. We dim the lights. And suddenly, as one, we’re breathing My hands, around you, interweaving, I recollect the gone by nights. My heart is burning, raging wild. You place, your hand upon my chest. Confess, softly whisper, “child...” Only the silence when I can’t deny it.
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Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
Cold January
Cold January. Heated furnace. And you, my dear, refuse to sleep. I think of you. And lights across the window sweep, And droplets freeze upon its surface. My eyes meet yours. We dim the lights. And suddenly, as one, we’re breathing My hands, around you, interweaving, I recollect the gone by nights. My heart is burning, raging wild. You place, your hand upon my chest. Confess, softly whisper, “child...” Only the silence when I can’t deny it.
H.хренников Memories from Russia
n-khrennikov
Written by
28/M/Russian
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
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