Where the shivers End

It's cold again,
it seems winter doesn't want to back down,
but here between my hands,
it's still spring.

I used to ask the rain what Mondays in bed with its presence would be like,
and it used to answer me with silence.
Even now, after knowing the feeling of rain and coffee in bed,
all I want is the sun, burning sun on my skin.

I can feel it in my shoulders.
I’d choose this kind of fog to numb my sight,
to tell me that dinner is served
and that mischief is on the menu.

Spinning under the rain,
dreaming of warmth,
craving heat and hating the cold.
Honey, let it sink
and meet me where you can’t control the shivers.