The small but ample cottage tucked in among the trees with large trees like bedposts.
A small hum of excitement stirs the air. The ocean kissed sea air moves past the cottage searching for just a peak at her.
But not tonight, the windows drawn tight, and still sweating from the warmth there by the muted figures in the flames.
Just a glimpse of her edges out from the corner of my eye.
And only she warms me in a way, that even now the figures in the flames seem less willing to speak her name.
With her heat comes a light, and with her light the words are more clear and the beauty of season more evident.
She is a muted flame edging out of the corner of my eye.
Kissing me quietly as she drifts off in to cozy corners of my mind.
Karl von Mecklenburg