First Edit: Remoteness/September Snow

[rowens]

It seems to me: 

A snow in September
hides your face
in a hood
like clouds over stars,
while a storm prepares
to bury the dead colours.

But enough of that meddling.



North is not a place
for love poems.


I like bold, simple statements. 


Hearts freeze there,
even when insulated by layers
only you have the patience
to remove and neatly fold,
lips crack, with or without
the pressure of kissing,
my mittened hands lonely.

But after simple statements, it's best to warm things up with some pyrotechnics. But that's me.
The Hearts freeze there line is the least necessary, though if you changed 'there' to 'here', or just drop 'there', you might could work something out.
And there's a slight play in the you have the patience to remove bit. If you know what I mean.