Today...

...the windows are splattered with rain drops. I'm sitting in our warm study, too hot but not uncomfortably so, in front of the roasting heater. It is cold outside, I think. I haven't been out of the apartment today; I am enjoying my solitary safety high amongst the roofs of the 9th arrondissement. My partner is away today, growing the yearly Christmas tree and enjoying being his parents' son. I'm thinking of him. I'm thinking that I like how he moves his head to the side when concentrating. And the way he hangs his shirts on the line, taking care to do up only the first and third buttons. I like how he invites me inside his arms and the way he welcomes me home. I like him, very much. Up high in our study splattered with kisses, filled with our things, surrounded by brick-red chimneys and the Paris white sky, I am warm.

(So warm inside
that I almost forget
what it feels like
to be cold and wet.)