With grass between our toes we walk,
On black-skied fields and darkened paths.

Our fingers firm against the cold
As mouths pour smoke into the dark December air
Our surroundings marked by the warmth we both contain

The link breaks;
Those who once fell now fall again, not into but upon their love.
A sword.
The cold steal moves; into, onto, through their bleeding beings.

You will heal and faster than you think.

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