On a cold Winter's day
    a plume of white smoke
could be seen from far away.

Not the smoke from a chimney or a cigarette lit,
this was a plume of heavy breathing
from two lovers having a fit.

Snow capped trees surround them as they argue,
neither wants to leave without first saying,
"I love you."

She pulls on the tips of her long black hair,
     standing in the middle of a forest,
unbeknownst to how she got there.

He fiddles with the lighter in his pocket,
wondering if leaving her
would be worth it.

Although it may not seem like it,
these two have made love,
                                             found love,
                                                                   and are in love.

The plume of heavy breathing will subside
    like the flame between them now
and turn into an ember
    burning long and bright,
as long as each one of them has the courage
     to say what's right.