the grace of footsteps
between moods of snow
icicles falling
with impossible delicacy
so quietly
it almost feels dangerous
i move toward this
like leaving an imprint
inside whatever we call this
echoes vibrating across fresh snow
creating footsteps beside my own
as though memory itself
still knows the way back
we speak across ice
like two minds
remembering each other
after time spent
learning different versions of silence
i break into thought
wondering if everything
could have unfolded
exactly the way we imagined
if timing had leaned
just a little differently
i light your lighter
the flame flickers against the wind
snow drifting through its glow
fire pushing back the cold
for only a moment
and somehow
that brief warmth
feels enough
i look into your eyes
wondering if you see this too
the stillness
the hesitation
the strange feeling
that the world has stopped moving
just long enough
for us to notice each other
we etch ourselves into this moment
like two people dancing with time
caught somewhere between touch and go
between certainty and vertigo
our thoughts circling one another
like strangers
who somehow know
far too much
next to every sentence
i could say right now
and every silence
i choose instead
time moves
it always does
but it lingers too
between here and there
between who we were
and who we become
between the version of time
that belonged to memory
and the one standing quietly beside us now