i. we dusted dreams off people like the first snowflakes of the season. you'd take one and rest it on the center of your tongue because you hated the taste of ice cream and wanted to reset what cold tasted like to you.
you taught me that the cold could be bitter, and so could people's dreams.
you drank out of out-of-order wells because you believed they still worked and that the government was keeping it all to itself.
i never realized how insane you made me before i wrote this all down.
ii. i wished on the sun because i ran out of shooting stars.
and just to spite me, you began wishing on raindrops because you believed that they were so many, one of them was bound to remember you.
but we both ended up laughing hysterically with protruding knives on a bloodstained floor, didn't we?
iii. i talked to clockwork towers and told them to lie because if they stopped for just a while, all the time in the world would seize.
one human, two humans, three and then four, all of them would reach to fix their own watches.
but no one would catch the frozen hands of the clock i betrayed; you taught me how to feel good about things like that.
you took naps on stratus clouds because you loved watching meteorologists get mini-heart attacks and laying there made you feel like Zeus. but you never noticed that when you felt like you were thundering, you weren't raining hard at all, and when you saw those same clouds bring a hailstorm, you never really snowed.
iv. smirks broke the solitude and loneliness crept in; the thin line between them lay raped by the timidly hostile enemy they called you. that's what you were always good at; telling me i'm wrong, but wanderlust was the only color that looked good on me.
and i don't fucking share.
v. we dusted dreams off people like the first snowflakes of the season, before Christmas carols on Valentine's day seemed ironic to you.
Do me a favor, you whispered to my hair, brushed by your winter sea-breeze breath just as i was about to get up and leave. Tell me what the cold tastes like to you.
a smile tore my lips and opened my eyes to silence.
i walked on.