My footprints are bigger than yours,
side by side we slide, one left, two, one right, a few.
The lining on your boots is doomed to leak,
a graying glue gathering along the edges
of your faux leather soles, singing a silly song
and then running away every time you step.
The falling skies cover the tracks we left behind,
to disappear in a river of strides,
but the soul you are painting
for me with a brush as white as the snow
that we plant ourselves in, is slowly freezing
inside me, one footprint at a time.