Your memories hang over
Like some sticky patch of clouds,
Dripping all over my face
In slow, sore motions.
Just like violet sky,
Or hefty downpour feels on a shaky window,
Thundering clouds rumble in my head,
Thousand things I gotta undo.
But I can’t do.
As I recall us cuddling,
Puttering around in lazy, greasy summers,
Inhaling musk of each other’s skin,
Will cuddling be like in winters.
It’s winter now.