Untitled

Your hands
were crisp in mine.

Your fingers,
frosted blades of
grass in my
grip.

My hands,
were crisp
with the realization
that seemed to
be all i
could wrap my head
around.

And your fingers
were melting,
I was taking
small pieces of you.

You’d travel

half a mile,

if only

you knew.

Author's Note

Something short, with your review also i would like you to write what meaning do you find in it