winter’s blood.

I was born with Winter’s blood,

In the misty, wet chill of January.

I was told that I gave beginnings a new meaning. 

And since my first breath, I have always loved the cold. 

I met a boy in the heat of July.

Told him I was rich in mind,

And poor in just about everything else. 

I had hoped to impress. 

I memorized his laugh lines 

And patient glances. 

His coffee orders 

And spiritual stances. 

From the summer to the spring,

I learned as much as I could.

Decided then that I wanted to remain a student of him.

To be diligent in my studies and ambitious in my research, so to speak. 

So I stayed, 

Grounded and unwavering. 

I listened as he made his own observations of me 

And apologized for my inconsistencies

Tried my best to not let them become the roots underneath me. 

I met a boy in the heat of July,

And he became my home.

My lover.

My defender.

My friend.

And now, 

My winter blood is so unfamiliar to me.

Because I am constantly in search of summers warmth.