I'm tired of winter

Sitting here,
Jittered, and oozing
caffeine from my pores.
Waiting,
then begging
for Spring.

Yesterday
scarved and wool
laden, fragments of skin
blowing drily
in semi forgetfulness.
I breath you in.
You breath me in.

I woke to the nasally wheeze
of murderous heaters
scraping the moisture from my
throat,
fingers curling
and crumbling.

I survived last year
and the year before that,
and before then, too.

A robin's egg.
The melt of earth.
The quiet plop,
plop
of ice melting.