in december,
i swore i wouldn’t write
another poem for sean.
said it with a sigh,
maybe even meant it.
i thought,
never again.

but then came january,
quiet and cold,
and somehow he was still
in the smoke of my breath.
a year since we began,
when i fell in love.

february found me
stitching metaphors together
like valentines
i never sent.
february saw the worst of it.

march marched in
with memories and melodies
i played our songs
and called it practice,
but it was always more.

by april,
i was blooming poems
like daffodils,
soft, persistent, yellow with hope.
a year since we ended,
but we grew again during that month.

in may,
every line was him
in some shadowed corner
of what i didn’t know how to say.
we were broken,
but stitched together once more.

and now it’s june.
i’m still writing.
still choosing him
in verse
because i don’t know
how not to.
so much for never again.