on cold and windy days like the one i am experiencing as i write, (you'll have to excuse the poor penmanship, my fingers are cold) my mind cannot let go of you. (though this may be unrelated to the weather entirely. perhaps i am just in love with you) it terrifies me what i would do to feel your weight on me, your arms around me, your heat close to me, and your lips on my neck. everything around me is harsh and sharp to look at and the cold cuts sharp like a blade. but every memory i have of you is fuzzy and warm and tender. to hear the breath in your voice again. i think i would weep. in my current state, i am little more than a ghost, flitting about, writing your name over and over until it is illegible. i would melt under the touch of your fingers. me writing to you is the only thing keeping me from freezing altogether. even the thought of you is warm enough to keep my blood moving in the winter. at least, just enough for my hands to write your address shakily. everything i look at, i cannot see anything but a space devoid of you. nothing else haunts me more than the fact that you are not here. to hold me. to kiss me all over. to whisper my name because i think i have forgotten it. to touch me and remind me i am real. i feel numb. let me seal this letter with wax. the warmth of it is the closest i get to you.

your ghost,
your lover.