After the Ice Has Melted

After the Ice Has Melted

After the ice has melted,

we swim in the thaw beneath the stars,

numb hands brushing ghost-thin memories

just beneath the surface.

The lake remembers winter.

It holds its silence like a wound,

and we, half-shadow, half-regret,

move through it without speaking.

Steam rises like breath from the past.

Your eyes are distant planets

I once tried to name,

before the frost claimed our voices.

Now only the cold lingers soft

at the edge of something broken,

and the stars, indifferent as always,

watch us try to feel again.

The sky offers no comfort,

only the hush of what we lost.

We sink like secrets,

never meant to survive the thaw.