i go back sometimes
to when you were love to me,
the first introduction i'd ever have to intimacy.

i go back
to two months ago,
when we held hands for the last time,
denial of what would happen the minute we walked outside.

we let love control us,
we let lust contort us,
we let ourselves become dependent on a relationship with an expiration date.

i go back
to two days ago,
when you told me we couldn't be friends.
i remember intermittently,
the warmth that i felt.