between november 10th and 11th

tonight the moon is quite bright. it illuminates the normally blindingly dark path from the alley to the door. all the stars have a faint and subtle hint of blue, piercing though the crisp and still air. it is funny yet startling, how the weather, something so mundane, beautiful, and cliché to discuss, can affect ones mind, body, and heart. the way the sharpness of a cold clear night air evokes the urge to bundle underneath your warmest blanket and to never move again, to scrutinize every choice you have ever made, and to finally accept the soreness of your joints. or how it can inspire night walks, down a deserted street, through a deserted park, under a deserted gazebo, where you feel paranoid, yet free with every click from the heel on your boot, through a once familiar city. upon returning through the eerily silent streets, searching for the light through the gap between the door and the porch, where the substitue for warmth resides, my mind lingers, but more accurately, returns, as always, to thoughts of you.