i sit nearer and nearer to the fire both feeding the flames with wood and edging myself closer.
i am cold, bones feel aches and air seems to have pierced through my skin. the rain is falling and hard, fog comes up the hill and back again. a quiet voice from the radio sings words that have me stop what i am doing, what am i doing.
the stack of books some open and others gathering dust, cats claim their hot spots as dogs growl at the air.
half a cup of tumeric & ginger concotion makes the inside of my cup look like art but it is the cup with ice and espresso that is making it to my lips.
there no heat from the sun but there is still warmth around me and even though cold travels and mingles with my flesh and bones, i have still manage to feel a flame of desire..