She prefers cold winter nights
to chirpy spring awakenings.
The strange, howling winds
bellowing in harmony with the sore hearts.
Not so far away from the moonlit deck
she sits by a flickering light
fully draped but nude to the soul.
Her thoughts lost in the silence of darkness,
her heart like a rusted knife
piercing her solace
one night at a time.

Every night she would remember that night
when it all started.
That cold, uncomfortable touch
on her not so blossomed bosom,
The hand that barricaded
the sounds of agony from the world.
The sorrow of crushed innocence,
The wrath of a life full of broken love,
The fear that it would never pass,
and the melancholy of a confused heart.

But this was a different night,
a different person, and a different touch.
This was the night to let go,
to break the barriers holding her
once and for all,
to soak in the scents
of love long yearned for.

And that is when,
not so far away from the moonlit deck,
the stars winked bright,
the loud wind turned to a sweet whisper,
and she hugged him tight
to embrace the cold winter night.

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Author: Dr. Farha Shaik

Image: Art Gallery ErgsArt/Flickr

Editor: Travis May