Throbbing Frost

And in the frozen nights,
It hurt like frost, while I ponder,
Your smell, your touch, your art,
I wander in my solitude, seeking your presence, the truancy shatters me,
Yet I kept pondering,
Your smell, your touch, your soul,
As I remain ignorant to that obscure warmth,
I shall settle on to this suffering I hold within,
While I remember,
Your smell, your touch, your tenderness.
And as this cluster of remembrance stays entangled, I concede this frost to hurt.