Cold bodies going into warm places

behind you speaks the cold relating
a story storing fever's chill
whose wind, its words, the snow elating
replacing ink whose twirling quill
defers its grace to hands that shiver
yet reach for warmth that surely give her
the heat of coldness you abhor
when going swiftly through the door
of either home or love's deceiving:
the kiss you felt was lost in time
the time we shared, a voiceless rhyme
whose lapse in breath like warmth bereaving
this cold you're feeling 'gainst your cheeks
whose days are longer than its weeks.