writeletters-dearyou:

Dear You,

After the show, I watched the snow fall onto your lips, it crossed over into liquid and disappeared into the fog of your breath. You looked lonely, you looked like you needed me, and for once I was correct. I curled my fingers in your brittle knuckles and kissed the air between us.

I never loved you more except for conversation 45.

-Me

(Source: handmade-moon)