You keep faded postcards in
the back of your drawer
to remind you of the time
before love was just a four-letter
word and it was an actual living,
breathing human being that was
standing next to you. One
hand slung carelessly over your
shoulder and the other stuffed tightly
in their pocket, secure and scared
at the same time.
This feeling permeated your love
and ate away at the naivety that
your relationship first experienced,
until one hand soon joined the other
and your shoulder was left subject
to the shivering cold of February.