Its shimmering surface morphing the true reflection.
The warmth of my palms is enough to melt it, but I am
afraid.
I am content, 
Overjoyed with the image before for me,
The frost is safe.
In all truth I know what is beyond the frost I can feel it,
tugging at my chest.
I know it is beautiful, painfully so
The voices tell me it will hurt. 

They warn me that I am too young, to even understand how it
feels.
I touch my fingers to the frost covered glass
 Index, middle, ring.
“How do you know?” they hiss, “How do you know it will
last?”
I take my fingers away, the tips wet from the cold.
Three perfect prints remain, a dim glow radiating
Taunting me.

I picture his face, I feel his touch, his weight, his skin
I close my eyes and his arms are around me, holding me. 	
I hear the distant words
“I love you” 
I stare into the glazed image of a perfect girl
A safe girl, who will forever be dreaming.
I press my palm to the glass,
“What if you fall out of love?” 
The voices are evil.
“What if you shatter his heart and yours?”
Slowly I slide my hand across the glass
 My fingers leave five diagonal lines in the frost.
The glow reaches from the glass to my face.
“Stupid Girl” the voices seem further away, but still
they echo.

I smooth my hand against a forgotten corner of the glass,
The voices fading disappear and suddenly I can’t remember
the image I once saw,
All I know is this bright and terrifying possibility. 
With my heart pounding, as though breaking from my chest 
I use both hands to wipe away what is left of the frost.
The glow is too bright and burns into my eyes,
I breathe and turn to the glass, praying I can still see.

There he is standing behind me, 
Arms holding me, his lips at my neck.
Waiting for me to see the truth,
I turn to him in glorious pain.
There is too much to feel
When leaving the frost.