She asks for some help with the zipper.

I stand behind her, place my fingers on the delicate fastener, and pull, listening to the music of hundreds of teeth losing their bite as her dress falls to the floor.

She jumps into bed. I climb in next to her and we create warmth between our two bodies.

My hand is holding part of her chest when I say, “I can’t believe this winter has been so long.”

“It’s been so cold.”

“Without the promise of spring.” I say. “Until tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve just been slogging through it. Feeling the cold in my bones.”


“The cold gets old. It feels silly to complain about the weather. But every now and then I laugh like I haven’t in a while- and it feels like warmth is trying to make its way in.”

She smiles. I don’t see this, but I feel it. I don’t expect it, but I know it. I embrace her strongly for a moment and then let go. She moves my hand from her chest and places it beside her mouth and kisses it softly.

“It’s almost spring time.” She says, next to my hand.

“I know.” I say, as I readjust my head on the pillow hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. Comfortable that today was today, and yesterday had its’ place, but that it’s for tomorrow for which we pray.

I close my eyes, next to her, and smile once more.