One
I closed my window before I went to bed.
Snow settles on the ledge;
Condensation makes its plage.
My room grows cold.
The air septs in;
The winter storm bites my skin.
I turn to him to keep my heat
But no one there, beneath my sheet.
I closed my window before I went to bed.
Snow settles on the ledge;
Condensation makes its plage.
My room grows cold.
The air septs in;
The winter storm bites my skin.
I turn to him to keep my heat
But no one there, beneath my sheet.
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