the clock is ticking
telling me it’s almost midnight
four hours have passed
since your last call
i glance at the window
and all i see was snow
no cars, no one outside
no sounds but the clock
and my own breath

my phone vibrates in my hand
but it’s not from your message
i let it go, but the trembling doesn’t stop
i’m inside but i feel so cold

as i turn the lights out,
there’s a knock on our door
and another
and another

i turn it back on
and rush into the front door
i look at the window
thank god, it was you
but before i had the chance
to open the door
you rush in, no greetings
something falls out of your grip
into the floor
a bronze key, the same as mine
covered in white
but stained with red.