Misty (blurry, cold and that burn) memories

There is a ghost-like touch.
It lingers and whispers through my skin. Its path is well known. Your slender fingers takes just as long as I do fo to turn and face you. The only thing I see is a pair of teal eyes, misty, blurred with something-burnt from the cold, harsh breeze. There is nothing to do about it. There is nothing left for us.