footprints in the snow

This is for the best, no?

part one…

My heart is pounding and I’m not sure why. 

I was first lured by the way your voice sounds when you get worked up, though I now get lured by the way my knuckles feel when my fingers clutch tightly to the finer hairs that grow on the nape of your neck, with the dirt of nights passed still living in the underneaths of my fingernails, and I use this grip to turn your head slightly towards me so that we can once again exchange looks like baseball cards of unequal value that reminds us both that love and marriage are diametrically opposed concepts.