'it's snowing.'
you whisper.
i jump from beneath the blankets
to see the white floating down,
silently. magically.
the air is cold.
i giggle.
crawl back in
and kiss your shoulder.
slide my leg through yours.
'it's my favorite day of the year.'
i whisper back.
'it's snowing.'
the text message says.
your first words to me in months.
no whisper.
no touch.
far away from you,
it is just bitter cold and windy.
no magic.
'not here.'
i say back.
i wonder if you're remembering too.
how much i love the first snow.
and how much i loved you.
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