Bare limbs, she said.
It makes her sound vulnerable and cold,
like the way the breeze blows in and welcomes the Autumn months to come.
It's cold, darling, I'd admit.
It's freezing.
The painful freezing where you can see your breath at every word
and feel the prickling coolness at the tip of your nose.
The kind that makes you wish for the warm crackle of the fire
and the delicious smell of pie wafting from the oven.
Cold, oh, so cold.
Both in personality and weather.
Beloved, I'd stay here and keep your hands warm...
But for now, I must depart.
Farewell, I bid you, my dear.
Please, fare well.
