I wonder if God can forgive us?
Not for our sins, but rather
for all the words we didn’t say,
and all the ones we did.

It was February and the moon
was as full as your heart and
almost as bright as your eyes
when you said “I love you.”

I like a fool echoed it back.
Maybe because it was
so cold outside and you
were the first fire I ever known.

But what did I know of love?
Two weeks later, buried underneath
layers of blankets lost in the moment
I thought perhaps this is what love taste like.

Somehow I thought we could learn to
make our bodies stick together,
like a well packed snowball,
but cold and fire do not go together.

No matter how hard I tired
this body never could stick.
Still I played the part like a soldier's
who since forgotten what he was fighting for.

It was April when the deception
faded away with the last winter’s snow.
Still I could not learn how to love,
so you left, taking the only love I have ever felt.

Now it is July and I bask in the summer sun,
pray to be forgiven for not knowing how to open up.
Praying to be given another chance
at the thing the poets called love.