Through a frosted window,
I may have seen your face.

Once,
about five years ago.

I still have the framed painting
you brought me from
Newfoundland.

You mentioned something about the landscape.

Signed with X's and O's.

It sits in the back of my closet,
and I make the excuse
that I need a nail.

But really, I just
don't have the

desire,

to look at it.