Here the city is covered with snow.
Somewhere there you’re playing the guitar, wearing shorts and T-shirts.
We are nesting under our soft blankets, hugging the ones we love and trying not to overthrow the cup of tea that we’re holding in our hands.
You’re standing by the fire on a beach, telling each other stories.
It’s already dark outside at 5 p.m. here.
But you’re only starting your day at 5 p.m.
We’re throwing ourselves in snow, like lost souls. Just to let a shadow behind us.
You’re stepping on sand.
We miss summer.
You’re dreaming of winter.