Frozen nights with our bodies enwrapped.
The frost outside scratches; scarring the glass.
In our bedroom, two sparks ignite one flame.
The ice gazes in at the fire we’ve created.
It crackles our window pane.
The inferno burns on licking and combusting.
Icicles start to drip from the heat we’re emanating.
The scorching temperature from within so hot, it’s sensed
by the snow outside as it succumbs, and winter begins to evanesce.