éclaircissement (witness_light) wrote,


pressed up against the glass

of a lit window.
it's cold outside. my breath,
a laced cloud, clings to the air,
then disperses. snowfell shimmers,
footcrumbled to my silent form
with hands shoved into pockets
& eyes watering with the chill,
the light in your room.

your lips move, i trace their unknown syllables
with my gaze. your lips curve into a slow smile,
it's mesmerizing really. if i could speak
i would call you out into the white
the shadows & streetlight pools,
into the starscattered sky, take your hand
til our fingers entwined froze together.

but your laughter is warm & bright. and i never knew
how to shine in a crowded room. i never owned
new furniture, the slender stem of a wine glass
poised in my hand or casual conversations .
.. but the edges of the night, the still & endless ache
of snowhorizon & cold , oh the everything -
this belongs to me . so you turn to the window
almost like you heard a whisper, a flutter
of wings . it was just the wind my dear,

a kiss of ice on the glass, my goodbye.

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