cold

It was 1:46
in the morning
in December.
The snow crunched
under our feet,
our ears lost their purpose.
We had spent the evening
in the foodcourt,
in the basement,
in the music
and sex took away all
possibilities ofwarmth.
They walked me almost
to my door, as they did
in the past. Adam was gleeful.
"Look! A shooting star!"
I missed it, I was
too busy looking at his feet.

written december 15 2007