Chilled

     Shivering after a hot then cold pour of water.
A splash to make senses alert. Ah how gentle the
mind is.

    Still drying in a cold room is torture but a must
to understand the small glimpse of hope standing,
staring eye to eye.

    Did I listen to the voice? Probably not for now I
need to close gap. Entering a fiery realm. Careful
not to be burned.

    Soft are the whispers in my ear, across my soul.
Shivers I soak into my spirit. Leading down to the
one open hope. To secure the dream that is being
excuted as I write. Each step, each breath is the
same. Still what comes the next is just as shocking
as breathing.

    Oh how all that was seen, known as a possibility.
Created for two. Held tightly for more. Secure the
locking of arms. A moment to just inhale an aroma
that blends nature with musk. Hmm how soothing
this scent is.

     Ah reminder of looks. Still craving more warmth.
Knowing what not to say but what do I say. How can I
say it? When do I get to have it.

   Still a coldness freezes from fingertips to core. Jaw
clenched in hopes of a softness that is absorbed
deep within.

   A chance, once given always have. So may I
crave that?