November

What’s more beautiful than the cold breeze of air through the windows in the morning?
The winds between the locks of hair, sinking into the skulls of numb faces.
Numbness. Familiarity in the senses, inside and out.
Creating nothing but blissful balance in the struggle between what we are inside out.
It’s perfect. For once, there’s no clash between us and the world. Everything is the same. Everything is numb.