Polar Bear

"You look like a polar bear." you said to me, brushing clumps of snow from my coat and bobble hat. The snow had not stopped falling since you phoned me to arrange a time and place to meet. We walked through field after field.
"The snow is beautiful, isn't it." you said.
"As soft as your face and deep as my love." I wanted to reply. I didn't. I opted for "It'll be up to our nipples in the morning."

"This is it" you said as we climbed a fence. We stopped and stared at the barn, snow settling on haystacks surrounding it..
"It belongs to my dad." you told me, and we collapsed in the hay. We were so cold we couldn't feel our own toes, so we felt each others.

"Don't let her think you've gone to too much effort." a friend had advised me that afternoon, so just before we met I ate a raw onion, whole, and ripped up the knees of my trousers.

When it was time to go, we walked back over the fields and the snow was even deeper. We shared the most warm kiss I will ever have.
"Be careful in the snow." I warned her.
"Is it still snowing? I hadn't realised" you said, trying to parody Andie MacDowell in Four Weddings and a Funeral. We decided to meet again, but something felt different. As I watched you walk through the snow, I worried you were getting cold feet.