Cold rain brings with it expectation
of colder nights, white clumps of snow
clinging to my clothes, drifting
from clouds unseen in a blackened sky.

I remember your skin, a field of snow
flecked with brown birds, my hand
on your hip. I remember something

warm pressed against my body when
I was surrounded by air as moist and cold
as the felsh of an apple from the fridge.
When you asked me to return

to this, I knew what it would feel like,
the pull of longing slowly ripping
those laughs out before they are ready,
the way you would push me back
into my bed, the long abesence.
But here I am, face wet again.


Filed under Uncategorized

3 responses to “Expectation

  1. Beautiful. I love the transition from the first to second stanza through the image of snow. And the way you frame that moment of warmth with the cold is extraordinary.

  2. adding to what nathan said, the wet face at the end brings us back to the damp weather (rain/snow) from the first stanza. great double meanings here.

    and i love the image of ripping out laughs before they’re ready.

  3. i like this a lot. love the image “your skin, a field of snow/ flecked with brown birds”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s