We hoped for rain but made the most of sun
until it set and frost coated our tongues.
You spoke of ghosts as chills ran down your spine
and horror movie screams drew you in closer.
Prophetic breezes brought me to your shoulder,
sharing warmth as winter air grew colder,
but How could I be scared of fiction walkers
while on my dreaming forehead rests your kiss?
The one I dearly miss.

Your room, it was narcotic from the smoke;
you closed the vents and slyly let it soak
the awkward pauses that I tred to cover
as the lyrics played and we both followed.
For hours, neither of us woud be heard-
expressing every thought without a word.
Our actions made us fools in stolen thunder.
We did not need rain to feel that kiss-
The one I dearly miss.