You lay me down and kiss my eyelids shut,

Tucking me in and pulling the blanket of snow up to my chin,

Placing a ruby flower beside me.

 

I shiver, but not with the cold.

Oh, no.

The cold can never touch me here.

 

A gentle rain starts to fall.

Pitter pat, pitter pat.

Soothing, lulling.

 

All the pain and stress of the week just slip away.

Like the willowy detritus that clings heavily to every surface,

Hanging in drapes that finally wash away.

 

I feel renewed, refreshed.

Relaxed.

Calm, wrapped in my snow blanket.

Safe.

 

I am happy at home,

Happy in my icy-whit cocoon.

Happy with you, I breathe, whispering your name in my sleep.

 

I clutch the blood red rose you gave me,

A splash of crimson against the glittering snow.

I lift it, sniffing lightly, and hold it to my chest above my heart.

 

My eyes remain closed.

I sigh in longing.

I can still smell your tantalizing scent lingering all around,

Enveloping me in a misty cloud of you.

 

I snuggle deeper, burrowing for warmth.

 

The blanket of snow curls about me.

 

You return and embrace me tenderly.

I sigh again.

 

At last, I think, as your lips meld to mine.

 

I circle my arms around you and link them behind your neck.

 

You love me.

I smile, my tongue still dancing with yours.

I love you, too.

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