the cold breeze never hugged
my body like this
before.

this is new. intoxicating.

looking at my hands.
empty.
there's this
tiny pang of pain subtle enough
to be noticed.

i didn't, at first.

now it's like the daily newspaper,
thrown onto my freshly mowed lawn
of self-judgement,
waiting
for someone to pick it up.

i never do.

maybe if the sun came back,
this wouldn't have happened.
but it didn't.
you didn't.

but it was alright.
you were like the summer
without the overbearing
heat.
you reminded me of
melted ice-cream and
sticky hands.

you are nostalgic.

sadly,
you can't force the sun to
come out
when it's raining.