Vision in a frosted breath

It is so cold that
I can see your soul
taking shape as you speak
and I watch you talking
against the black shape of the bare trees
and I wonder, does the soul enter back
when you breathe in?

Or does a part of it just remains outside
as an oblation you have payed
for being in time,
for being in space,
for being here and now, with me.

I want you to stop talking.
I want you to save all your breaths
so to make sure
that I will always have you
and nothing will take you away from me.

But you are still talking,
and now you are laughing,
you are laughing out loud
and the vapors take so much of your soul
that I almost cry.

Is this how much you love me
that you offer me your laughter
even if it costs you?
And I start laughing too,
I want you to be happy
and to enjoy my laughter
just as I enjoy yours,
and we end up laughing
and laughing
as we know that
this is love… 

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