13 – frosted feet

“remember when we were young” you had said
“and foolish, and traipsed around
on streets of cobblestone,
kicking around empty bottles of whisky
under the bourbon soaked lamp light
and the smoke from cheap cigarettes
coiling around us, waiting for morning
to trickle in with the dew?

remember how we loved and lived then?
and how we would link our arms through
each others, dancing our way
through the darkness at midnight?”

i returned to the streets
to find my memories,
and somehow, all i can remember
is that one day, i had woken up
with weathered skin
and frosted feet.