Envelope opened a poem’s grandiloquence, whose sentiment spent the evening on nightstand before waking amidst cousins hands had crankled.

Voice opened an attempt at a melody meant to charm, but if any notes would have endeared, they met instead a bar of amusia.

Closed window atop lighthouse’s cockle stairs precluded view known to invite nudges, so fingers swiped away. Then, as hope reblurred, warmth enclosed in gelid airs awared itself, prompting a moment—unplanned. And, perfect. : )