Despite the distance, our love continues to grow. Even when he’s away and unreachable, I can feel him. He’s the whisper of the wind, the cold settled in my bones, the flakes that fall outside. The sun can be shining, the windows clear and untouched, and the flowers in bloom, and he’s still here with me. Always with me. He’s the silver-glowing scar spun at my sternum, cradled between the neckline of a feathered corset. The patter of my pointe shoes when I run to my spot, adjusting my headpiece one last time before springing onto the tips of my toes. The caress of fog as the scenery opens and
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