My worn fingers are near frozen

on this dark and frigid night

In the ribbons that you gave me

I have wrapped these cold hands tight

Retaining some small measure

Of the warmth from when you held them

Conferring perfect pleasures

As I lift my palms to smell them

–

I drink your sent like liquor

Each sip my spirits lifting

Warming my core much quicker

Than this jacket made for drifting

On this road that leads me to the sea

Your aura conjures memory

Sweet sent of you wrapped up in me

I’m stronger for your gifting

 
~j.d.schofield