minus three degrees
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The black is minus three degrees.
You could see your breath if it weren't so dark.
Can't feel or see your hands in mine
but I guess my ears are fine,
as I hear you still haven't lost your voice
Tell me again that you love me.
I probably still won't believe you, but
your breath is so warm, and
it's something to hear
better than all the nothing.
It warms my thin fingers like a flashlight
Illuminates the frozen veins inside
They're still red
Even if I can't find a pulse
That's something.
--Caroline
All Rights Reserved
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