Black and bitter like those frozen nights
Under your umbrella, you carry with you to work, your unavoidably scorched tongue
Seemingly at the pavement, under your breath you curse at your neverfailing naivness in believing that it was cool enough to sip.
You fancy some milk will bring a drop of sunlight.
For the days are grey and the nights, endless
like that tar you pore down your throat, hour after hour
Eroding your insides, like this chilled season erodes your smile.