A cold and rainy night

I haven't felt you burning so hotly in my chest for what seems like ages, my friend.  You, my heart, an engine of life pumping blood through my frame, and anatomy, and figure, a constant murmurer of affirmations.  You respond to friendship, and to love your murmurs cadence does augment, but to words of truth from others lips, you drink your fill and overflow. 

Upon my return from a potluck dinner, my roommate informed me that the furnace had expired and we must warm ourselves by donning layers of sweaters and woolly slippers.  Winter is coming, but first its icy breath is prefaced by rain and frost.  Sprinkled on sidewalks beneath the streetlamps, gold and crimson leaves prettily lie as a steady rain lacquers them into wet submission against the concrete.  My two roommates, grumbling about the cold, dispersed to their parents' homes, leaving me to combat the polar air as best as I could with a steamy, hot shower.  Soon after I crawl into bed and scrawl a few words reminiscent of the day, I sail on a white boat into weightless slumber, inconscient of the imposing darkness.  During the night and in waking, I am acutely aware of my heart filled to brim, flushed with the wonderful, kind, honest words that were spoken during dinner.