You're ready, you say, oddly proud
take
my face in your hands before you draw
ceremonially
two lines with *******, two lines of white on each of my cheeks, nodding earnestly
smiling ever so warmly as if saying
I'll be only a few steps behind, if not closer for now
all the time
my eyes ask of you
all the time yes all the time your presence
answers, reassures
and I detach
not detach
and take a step forward into the snow
the cold where I can see my breath forming clouds
and it is not cold at all
it is not cold