Cold Love

On a winter cold night
snow glistened
butterflies fluttered
hearts murmured softly
young love devours those who let it
our cold hands held each other's
and when he kissed me he swallowed my soul for his own
it was his
I was his
it was silent
psithurism
wind through trees
rustling leaves
then he looked at me
I stared
his eyes twinkled as if he were about to cry
showing a reflection of the beautiful chalky white snow
he used to tell me if you stare at someone long enough, they cease to become real
But I couldn't help but smile as we stood in the spotlight of our broadway show
for a brief moment it was our fairy tale
then in a blink of an eye
he was gone
was it real?
was he real?