We visited a greetings card. We
cut invisible lines in the ice, left non-existent
tracks like hesitant dots across the snow. Our
cheeks would have been red, our
sounds would have been smothered. We
imagined our panted breath upon air so cold it
brittled the inside of our noses.
We soaked ourselves in cliché; in the end
it was only gift wrap that opened at my touch.
And I claimed you once again,