nobody's here

I recall a sliver of a moment on a darkened road. You are by my side. You are quiet, hands swinging as we walk, breathing in the cold, puffs floating above. My fingers dig at frayed strings in the pockets of my jeans. I cannot speak. I walk. We step in time. Why do you? Why do you stay? I turn my head, surveying the moonlit edges of flat fields and I imagine that you stop short and turn to disappear into the night. I would flow forth, against winds and winter, against the silence, steps no longer amplified by your echoing gait.