Glitter stars adorned the ceiling with the softest glow as evening left and night quickly came. Words from my eyes did start to play. They spoke as chords do from a string, and the blood burnt round my heart remained. Are all the pretty flowers winter’s choice to take away? Or only those who endure like her allowed to stay? If so, is love’s bed always snow? Her hands felt as ice even in the summertime. She seemed to hear my silent voice. I was falling more and more. Her arms were open as we lay and she took upon her lips each of my fingertips kissing them in her own special way. I feel now what heaven and happiness are, even if they only last one winter’s day.