Crisp, cold, bone chilling.
My breathe is the only thing I can see.
Where is the warmth found,
Under a wool blanket,
Or next to a freshly stoked fire?
Those only warm the skin.
Heat is what is I need.
The type of heat that is rare,
The type of heat found in your arms.
Your heat warms not just the skin,
But my heart and soul.