Frozen was the ground warm was the flesh.
A total whiteout.
Yet not a single curve was missed through
such thin mesh.

She spoke frozen in the moment
to every word she said.
So cold was the night.
Warm was the bed.

Deep within  passion written with
with a kiss.
Warmth cannot be ignored.
Even on a snow covered night like this.

Snow drifts slowley as i view
the moon's light illuminate your
silhouette as across the room you slowley walk.
Confessions in the key of plessure
with such gentle pillow talk.

Ice cicles  and love bites.
Memories etched deeply within are hearts.
From these lovesick nights.

And as snow does melt.
We will not question every little word said.
Just cheerish the moments.
When cold was the night.
And warm was the bed.

I go in cicles but never get closer,
alway behind you watcing your back,
and if someday this ride stops,
it will keep on spinning in my head.