Lonely in the Winter.

Wintertime lags and drags—
like two bricks tied to a woman’s ankles,
or to a woman’s heart.
bleak.
and brisk, with ghost arms
wrapping around your soul’s summer—
chilled to the bone.
It carves into porcelain skin
that is so fair,
and so fragile,
it breaks at the touch of the wind.
It’s like a single snowflake
that dawdles in midair, or
perhaps mid-sentence,
and it melts from your warm,
and lonely breath.