A Cold Winter

There’s a train headed straight for us,

or at least that’s what the rails seem to be saying.

The air is so muggy our clothes are damp,

but my tongue still remembers the shape of your mouth,

so I’m not too eager to leave.

This is the only place I’ve ever felt safe,

At the end of the world with the only woman I’ve ever loved.

I can see the steam coming out of the engine from this distance,

It’s starting to cloud the sky.

You whisper to me and a shiver kisses my spine,

The steam is blanketing the stars,

They’re finally going to sleep.

I glance upwards and watch them disappear by the dozen.

It’s like watching the last hope die,

Except you’re still holding my hand.

Do you remember the snow? I keep my voice quiet to keep the memory sacred.

Without a word, you take our clasped hands

and try to shove them in your one small jacket pocket.

I don’t think you can hear my laugh over the sound of the train,

But the corners of your mouth turn up anyway.

And then you’re holding me like it’s the last time,

Because maybe it is.

The train will come when it wants,

but the heart knows better than to flee at fear.