you parted my lips with breaths of promises

but i can still see the footsteps in the snow leading out of our house-

sorry, my house-

and for a while, the winter seemed too harsh

like the cold would swallow me whole and turn me into a sculpture of ice

that could break apart if the winds didn’t caress it softly

my frozen palace was already filled with too many cracks

but winter has its own way of erasing goodbyes

it snowed again and your footsteps vanished

i’m learning to light my hearth again

but at least i won’t wait for somebody else’s fire.