thewaitingone

I remember how cold it was when I realized I was in love with you.
We came out of the artificial daylight to have a smoke.
Last one of the day before you went home and I went to my house.
You didn't love who was waiting for you.
I had nothing waiting.
We stole a fast embrace.
I could feel you through your coat.
All warmth and curves, firm and soft.
That comes with me til the end.
The sun hit my eyes and you gasped.
You said they glowed.
Only from the inside out.
You gave me some of your cigarettes to last until we clocked back in.
You asked if I had food.
I realized my circle just grew.
I didn't feel the 28 degrees wrapped around me.
I remember the instant I closed my door to start the engine.
Nothing smells like an old, frozen Chevy.
Brittle vinyl, gasoline, and something new...
I could smell you on my shirt.
All things combined and I KNEW.
Those prints are still on me.