(as per the usual, not entirely refined yet)

The Cold Season

I loathed each winter.
The sun's daily fall into ash.
The wan rain that barely-
The cold that ached in my bones
before I even woke.

Until I found you -
a brush of color,
a drop of autumn ember
in that pale season.

Oh, we were both still chilled.
(it was still winter)
It was not warmth you lent me-
(though we shared what we could)

Rather,
You gifted me with new eyes,
to caress the air,
its subtle noncolor of ice.

Your scent woke me
to the colors that were,
the ghosts of tree's sunsets
that lingered in wintry grey and blue.

In your voice I heard
the quiet timbre of frost
bearing itself into existence.

Where my soul had contracted
before in fear of the constricting
pain of cold, it began to wake
to the bracing vitality
I had once hid myself from.

In your lips, I tasted snow-white honey.
In your arms, in the long nights
of that cold season, I found winter.