Expectation

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.

3 Comments

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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”

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