Frost decorates my window though I dare not use my finger to
draw heart, outside the ravages of winter, like a beast beating to come in, I
wait for the ice to melt, just shy of a month from when lovers greet each other,
and treat each other to candy, roses and heart shaped cards, a ritual I no
longer share, even when I still dream of that last moment, when we embraced,
parting in haste, working something out which can never be worked out, or
resolved, that last and best moment when I could still feel it, touch it with
all my anatomy, parting from it finally and permanently as she\we moved on to
feel it again, to taste, to touch it, more than I could expect ever if I dared
put a heard on this frosted glass
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