Dear Winter

Dear Winter, I've grown to love your cold shoulders touch and although I look forward to the coming of spring I will forever cherish the late nights of Frasier, hot tea, slices of artificial sweet potato pie and sex glistened nights in front of open fires.

Winter

She and I connected between the second verse of the third song and by the songs end we sat there all eyes mentally nude. Discomfort vividly affected her positioning, I told her to relax and assured her that I would take her insecurities and place them in the highest darkest place in my closet, next to my fathers pornos. They being the end of his freedom so he says, would keep the destruction of her beauty company, for they would never see the eyes of any but mine again. She told me that she would take my arrogance and tuck it in her great grandmothers mink in the attic and pray that its humbleness rub off on it. I smirked for I knew that it was that same arrogance that bought us both together. Said it was something about my fuck the world attitude that kept her intrigued.

Over tea we discussed life's politics: Obama vs. Clinton her defending Clinton's animalistic go straight for the throat tactics and I proclaiming that its time that the white house be painted black, I defended a god who hung on a piece of wood that tended to frustrate the intelligence and her stating that the same "all knowing", "all loving" man was a hoax, a joke, because it would have been he who took her parents from her at the age of 7, leaving her to be raised by her grandmother and the streets.

We talked love of slices of sweet potato pie, she told me that she could see herself loving me, I told her don't, to blind that love, because with love comes expectations and expectations bring disappointment and I would hate to disappoint. So we agreed to set those feelings aside and live only in the now. She assured me that she would teach me to love without disappointment, I smirked and ate the crust.

We blueprinted our plans for a family, adoption she stated was part of her destiny, for there were to many tribes of fatherless children in the world that needed our love. So we on an african male and an asian female to represent both of our ancestry.

Over a sink of dishes she explained why the caged bird sings, and between intermingled hands in suded water and playful bubble fights we'd glance at the clock on the wall for we knew that time was not willing to wait for us. And for a split second my faces showed discomfort for the thought of depression that was destined to set in during her absence.

We made love in front of an open fire in the middle of May to remind us of what we decided would be our favorite season WINTER. And as our world clashed and we emptied ourselves of our life forms, I decided that that would be her name. I told her that I would tattoo it on the the inner folds of my right hand between my thumb and my index finger, so that every time I went to write I would think of her. ......And as we layed sex glistened we say that May will forever be the coldest winter ever.