I’ll heat up water, to feel the warmth return to my body.
It’s colder these days than I’ve ever known.
It’s lonelier these days.
It feels as if it’s happened again, being left out to dry— or likely freeze round these parts.
I thought it may have meant something again.
You and I.
Warmth a kettle couldn’t kiss me with like you could.
But a weekend is meaningless if you don’t return I love you, and a book is better burned than unfinished.
If you meant any of it, my phone wouldnt have only rung when YOU needed it.
...and here I am... a well of love that draws relief for others... just to freeze back into the winter, waiting for another returned I love you.
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