All Saints' Eve

Perhaps, as time goes by, I will achieve my wishes, three of them, to be precise. Since we have met on chilly All Saints' Eve, my first one is a heart as cold as ice. The second is a fire in my loins as burning as the thirst I cannot slake. Die, fire! I don't want to toss the coins, the words, the hints, the meanings. The mistake we've made is love I'm falling in. Alas, I'm falling in but I'm not fallen yet. By-by, I'll see you later, a seichas prishla pora zakanchivat sonet*. My third wish is as warm as friendly kiss. Please, do not take this poetry amiss. *(rus.) and now it's time to finish the sonnet. 18.04.2019