Cold is the rebirth.

It’s where it started.

Blackened atlantics, compliment the lullabies.
The touch of the unknown is the drug.
Don’t give me sedatives.
My heart should beat as fast as the frost.

Morning is blue; it bites your throat.
Your early scarf and your morning coffee.
Its only when the sun breathes cold.
Your lungs fill with the eleventh and twelfth .
Listen to songs that resonate.

With nostalgia.