Sweater Weather

The smooth fabric of the sweater encloses my skin as you put it on me with gentle love.

The warm exhales of your hot breath send shivers down my spine.

Your rough hands envelop me as we stare at the frosted window,

glancing through typical London stereotypes as our hot mugs cool down.

I can feel your stubble on my head,

Your fingers slowly running down my bare neck.

The sighs off pleasure echo.

The fireplace cackles with the silence of the moment.

But I don't think anything can break our souls apart from the way they clutch each other.

Promise to stay with me and I will fight the universe to not let your hands drift away from holding mine.