‎Your love feels like a breath in the cold. ‎It escapes my lips as mist, ‎a fleeting signature ‎the air erases before I can name it. ‎ ‎I see it— ‎silver against the dark, ‎like smoke rising from a fire ‎I can never touch. ‎ ‎Still, it teaches me I am alive. ‎Your breath ‎burns through the hollow rooms of my chest. ‎For one moment, ‎my ribs glow like glass. ‎ ‎Then it vanishes. ‎Every exhale dissolves ‎into fields of white silence, ‎footprints filling with shadow. ‎ ‎Your love was never meant to stay— ‎a miracle of seconds, ‎like frost melting beneath dawn. ‎ ‎Still, I breathe, ‎chasing the fleeting trace of you ‎rather than standing unlit in the dark. ‎ ‎Your love is fragile, vanishing, ‎yet carries every heartbeat of mine ‎on shivering wings, ‎like sweet, cool air drawn in ‎only to release into the cold. ‎ ‎