home.

Do you remember the time we started over? Picked up the rags from the grass, dusted off our dirty knees, I told you we would make it?

That morning was so cold. We watched our breath sink into the grass and we wished we could take it back. But it collided with air and mystery and passion and hope and it was gone. Even if the clouds would have split, we wouldn't have been able to look at the sun. We were too busy watching our breath float beside the train tracks or at least until the grass reached up and grabbed it.

You know, the light from the sun would have reflected off of the tracks and onto my eyelashes. Your cheeks would have turned a darker shade and I would have smiled. Streaks of light would have crossed our fingers as we promised to never fall. We'd watch our breath float to the sky. Uneasy, it drifts alongside the beams of light until it finds its home among the warmth and light.