Maybe this is wrong

Despite the heat and sound around us
a frozen winter wasteland is outside
and inside of me still
so maybe it was wrong
to draw you closer tonight
but I don't care right now.

On this floor, in this light and place
all so foreign to me.
Even you are not so familiar
but the human touch is instinct
It is within me to reach for comfort
to forget the harshness
of tomorrow's glaring light.

For now, I need the closeness.
Tomorrow, I'll have to deal with the consequences.
Maybe it was wrong.

I rest my head on your shoulder
and play little spider on your shirt
can you hear what I whisper into your hair?