the fireplace crackles, washing us in lights
of oranges, reds and yellows – the nights
are still impossibly cold, but the days are
warmer. you stoke the fire again and i
instinctively reach for the warmest thing
i know, your hand. you sink into my
shoulder, and i squeeze your hand a
bit tighter, for the moment we
found respite in this very moment.
sweet-nothings exchanged, sometimes
i think the silence between us is
the sweetest melody.
the fire settles down as we realize
we’ve ran out of coals. we excavate
through our memories, sharing our
favourite nuggets over the years.
the fire roars back to life as
the melody between us