Torpid souls in the heat of winter

Wind whispers through the ears of distant lovers as the sun hides behind ominously positioned clouds where their gray cast shadows on quiet hearts quiet minds, & quiet eyes alike Poor lovers, transfixed by natures embodiment of their undisclosed truths, words no more manageable than a peep escaping a ducklings throat Eyes shut wide, glued by dependance Waiting for mama to come, waiting to be fed But there is no food here, just gray & mama will not come it is just you and i & the feelings we dare not bare Starving ourselves waiting for spring to melt the ice away