january  your coffee painted my shirt a muddy brown
but i was too lost in your eyes to care. we met, twice,
and the second time you said you'd call - and you did.
(my heart skipped several beats)
february** day, night, it didn't matter.
i thought of you, anyway. your face was
etched into my memory, but when i saw
you again, i knew my mind had done
you no justice.
(god, you were beautiful)
march i understood what love was, and
it was far richer, far sweeter and far more
precious than anything i could've ever
imagined.
(i loved you)
april you were the best artist i had come
across, painting images of our future with gentle
but confident strokes, a masterpiece i would've
given my everything to keep.
(picasso could never compare)
may a ring, you promised, with the largest
diamond you could find.
(but whatever would i need a diamond for
when i had you?)
june work and love raged a war so cruel
there were bound to be casualties on both
sides.
(who, or rather, what, was yours?)
july innocuous touches and chaste kisses
vanished from my life and your side of the bed
remained cold, like you had suddenly become.
(i missed you)
august i saw how we drifted, like wood floating
on the surface of a raging ocean, going anywhere but
towards the other.
(come back to me)
september threads of desperation  tried to fix the rip.
how could this have happened to me,
to us?
(please don't break my heart)
october you spoke of leaving to broaden that beautiful
mind of yours,  and of course, i would be by your side.
(wouldn't i?)
november you told me you were going away and never
to come back but i wasn't to come with you. you promised
phone calls and messages and the little hope left in me clawed
at that promise.
(the sound of your voice would've made my entire month)
december there were no phone calls, there were no messages.
merry christmas, darling, i wish you'd call but i understand.
(i don't)
january it was a new year for me and a new lover for you.
(goodbye)