Between the Warmth and the Cold (Another New Name Again)

The warm summer wind

Is something like the way you’d touch my skin

Flooding memories never made again

It’s almost like you’re here and then

In the rain dotting the window

You’re tracing your fingers slow
Obscuring the view

And all I hope to feel is you

Photograph:

The Border, Where the Horsemen Don't Ride

Dane Anderson