In the dead of winter slow exhales transform strangers into angels
floating on clouds, drifting towards the ground in order to visit me
because in a fantasy I had wings large, white and protective
I could glide over the moon waves, pulling and pushing at the ocean
while flight my be a fancy it's exhausting to stay afloat
if you awake you fall, to the cold sidewalk, packed snow so hard it'd hurt
so keep it as a dream, a wish, a love, keep her as a ghost, close
because one day you'll see her in your breath and smiling sliding toward you as if on air.