The disclosure of your brightness, your warmth, is unexpected. Still clothed for winter, I am not ready to receive you, but your light, so tantalizing, persuades me to peel back my layers, exposing myself to your gentle heat. Touch me; I will risk getting burned.


Sideways glance, eyes cast down, I beg you, do not disturb.

My plea disregarded, you desert me in our late winter.

Your growing needs too much for my simple character.

Your desires too much for my practical nature.

One last bitter kiss and I alone crumble, draped in transient memories.