Keep Me

A terrible cold passes over the City. We leave all the radiators on and shiver in the corners where the heat does not reach. I pile on layers of colored knits to brave the cold but I arrive late, flustered, and must peel them all off in an instant. Their kitchen window fire escape is washed in the kind of sunlight that warms your very soul; I see days and days of spring time naps spread out on that wrought iron and I long. Suddenly there is a future ahead; it builds itself slowly, but surely. The little child laughs at my nonsense, and his trill makes me believe there is nothing to fear. A wedding invitation comes from across the ocean. We make plans of summer nights together. Has it really been that long? But the truth is of course that she is closer than ever.

I don't hear your voice in my head like I used to, don't see the ways your eyes would crinkle when you smiled. I'm building a new life now.

This cold will pass,
eventually.