our summer last year is still running warm in my blood,
fighting away the winter's unforgiving rain and ice here,
where cold rattles at the windows and threatens to seep inside the bones.
Winter's plan to recolor the days with gray from the weather,
the city repeating the tone and drowning in monotonous noise
And a tired heart goes to sleep waiting for the sun to come back.

At night I keep close your sweater, the first step closer to warmth.
Covering and safe, and not so different as if you wrapped me in yourself.

As if there still was the heat glowing around us, and your sky-mirror eyes
were taking in all the blue they could find, and next to you
my hair borrowed gold from the sun. Like around us were only fields
and good-bye only meant good-night, until another day that promised
nothing more than a smile, a laugh, and two hearts
higher than a bird newly set free.

At least for now, until spring starts to peep out of the ground
and when our summer will start once again, then I will keep your sweater
to fill in the spaces where you are not, so tomorrow will come
with a little more light, a little more color and music
to sing me closer to coming days with you.