Perhaps in the quiet hours of the winter night, the warmth of your palm cupped against my cheek has taken me for a fool. But, I could have sworn that after skin touched electric and pulses steadied; in the closeness of those quiet hours, your heart was mine.

Perhaps in the quiet hours of the winter night, the warmth of your palm cupped against my cheek has taken me for a fool. But, I could have sworn that after skin touched electric and pulses steadied; in the closeness of those quiet hours, your heart was mine.