Spring

Cold lips
Frozen doors
And empty paths
Are the only things that are keeping me captive on these stormy nights.
They leave me standed on flurry grounds,
Staring deep past the sky
Where crystal eyes watch beyond
And warms me until eyes of gold awaken.
They like to whisper me secrets.
Secrets of the future.
They tell me
Your frosty lips will soon melt into shades of sun-kissed pink
And the iced doors will suddenly bloom open
And those empty paths of ours will turn to open hands.

I hear that it is arriving.