Winter

I can remember
the crunch of your boots in the snow,
the sheen of the ice on the sidewalk
and the blood of the dying sun
that poured out across the sky,
slick between the tendrils
of the clouds, starting the sudden descent
of this day into darkness.
It was winter
when you kissed me, your lips
frozen and chapped as you pressed them
to mine, slid your hands
into my pockets and pulled,
tugging me closer
as if to breathe my warmth into you,
as if I could save you from the inevitable
before the snow began to fall.
But the wind was blowing, hard,
your lashes frozen,
my breath a white puff
rising through the air
and at that moment
I knew that this was all I could give you.
I needed to be able to climb away,
up out of the drifts before the snow
swallowed the two of us whole
together.