Darwin Was Right

Waves of cold on empty arms, feeling the heat of your breath.
Wrapped in the comfort of cold, lie awake as three words haunt me.
Isolated and far from my home, it's the shivers that close my eyes.

Enamoured with sore lips, words written in traces of teeth.
Hopelessness is hanging in the air, fighting off the notion of sleep.
Waiting for cold fingers to meet my back, as I lie afraid to ruin everything.
...and as I wait for it to be okay, it's the shivers that close my eyes.

The pressure's got me trembling.
"I hope I made the right move," I sing as you fall into me.