Your Black Cherry Love

I am cold.

So I open 

the doors.

Letting 

it become

even colder.

I need to

feel this

story,

every last 

word.

I step 

in and out

and let

the smell

of the past

swim in

my head.

I let the sun

soak into

my freckles

and then 

without warning,

I feel

the warmth

of 

your 

black cherry

love.

Your

whispers

calm me

and I let

the crisp 

air dance

around

my neck.

And I am

no longer 

cold.