Your Wintry Eyes Day!

I feel a chill every time you look at me, she says.

You ask if it has to do with the way in which you look at her. The way you let your eyes crawl up and down her body, starting at the hem of her dress, and climbing up over her hips and around her ass and quick around over her belly slithering to both breasts and then tiptoeing real slow along her neck, and waiting there, on her neck.

She says, "No I dig that."

It's your eyes. They cast a spell of cold on any world they blink at. "When I look in your eyes I remember that I'm gonna die, and so will my Dad and my Mom."

"Must make you feel like there's no time to waste," you're wise to say.

"It makes me want to bring about a birth. Nothing can get me on my back faster than a death knell."

Make your move, Jack Frost.

Happy Your Wintry Eyes Day!