We spin and turn, I'm in your arms and before I realise you lift me high above the crowd and spin me around and around and around. I can't sit still you say and I just smile. Somewhere in between I let go, I let feel. It's surprising, exhilarating, liberating. Intoxicating. Tempting.

'Your hands are cold'. If I was a verb I would be waiting.

Morning brings back reality with its greyscale and bitterness. Snow underneath my feet. I watch my steps.