Letter, January 17, 2016

We drank wine and tea, wrote our hearts as poetry, and spent the winter sleeping together, making love as the snow erased the world outside, muffling everything into a pure white. Under the cover of snow the house slept while inside our bodies shivering against each other flickered like a tender flame, burned a fire of unimaginable intimacy and warmth. Inside we melted into a soft glowing river as on the house and all around snow kept piling, erasing, muffling, knitting everything into a blanket of exquisite white. The world faded and forgot us, let us slip away as we, that winter, covered by the snow, became heart and warmth, the internal hearth that sustains the flesh of the earth.

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