there seems to be a path of small, neglected frogs,
sitting silently and watchfully like bumps on the stones
where do they want us to go?
the smell of the atmosphere is thick and wounded,
and the rain beginning to drip upon us is acidic
but you and i, we'll keep walking, hand in hand

for some reason you don't remember it,
although i remember that winter, up on the hill,
in the snowy breeze, you and i, standing alone,
two single figures like glowing beacons in the dark,
the snowflakes blizzarding us with their white mist
you don't remember why anymore, but i laughed,
and then you smiled at me and the snow stopped

the frogs become dark with spotted burning rain
but you still hold my hand and i still lead you onward
i think i could walk forever with you in the acid rain,
your fingers digging into my palm, clutching me
so tightly that i want to unstitch my hand and simply
give it to you to keep when i'm not around anymore

i can smell hazelnuts and chocolate in the distance,
raindrops sliding off my hood into my eyes, my hair,
and you are silent, making me wonder if you notice

they ask me why i'm with you, they question
but you and i, we don't need their petty curiosity, for
even if the years slip away from me and i lose you,
someday i will walk out from the warm fire
into the biting snow, and i will find you there,
on that hill, dusted white, and we will stay, you and i.