The Chill

Posted on Monday 21 November 2005

The Chill takes my breath away,
as I feel the warmth seeping out of my skin. 

Exhaling plumes of smoke as I gasp at the beauty of the clear nights’ sky.
The Darkness pitch, broken into by the waning moon.
Silver in the sky,
Silver on the frost,
Silver on the dampness moistening all that is still. 

She sits surrounded by jackets and fashionable slicked hair.
Her red dress and red lips embodied by her curves.
Her pale hands grasping at a cigarette,
Lips pursed as she blows in delight. 

The over priced restaurant across the road,
Set ready but closed on a Friday night.
The Trendy bar, Fronted by Hulk.
No Jacket, popping buttons, black eye. 

Lady slips on black ice.
Her suede shoes too delicate for her rosy layers.
She whimpers as he pulls her into his arms.
Kisses her cheek and strokes her hair. 

I quicken my pace as the street light lies behind.
The chill has taken my breath,
and the warmth has seeped out of my skin. 

 

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