My mornings to you..
I'm waiting for you
I wait as my hand touches the window
So slightly yet gentle
I feel the smooth glass that begins
To fog
As my breath gentle brushes against it
My eyes begin to shake
They start to strain
As I look at the white snow
In the morning light
I pick at my lushly chapped lips
Biting them
And thinking about the feeling of
What it would be like
To see your face again
In this bright morning snow
