The winter we asked for.

That shivering in the morning
everything manages to get wet;

Doors slam.
The hand of winter enters the house
A frozen cold whisper tickles feet
Reaching through the floorboards
Traveling up the walls, shaking them as they move
The house quivers in the morning
The rain could carry the house across the sea
In the bathroom, the morning socks are dampened and the cold pierces skin.
The day moves too fast.

In the winter it’s more evident
People become empty vessels
fast moving objects
only talking for their own motives

mostly talking of the cold
work
and sleep
and then moving to the next empty vessel, filling it up with tiresome talk of their late nights and drinking habits
then briskly moving on
for it’s too cold to wait around
and you can’t really hear what they’re saying
for the wind is too strong
and even then, all you can think of is the water in your shoes
the water in your shoes
the water in your shoes