remember last winter when you folded my wool socks
& whispered that my tiny feet were whimsical
i looked at you & thought the same
& i spent so many nights trying to find my mind
in the cold winter & you’d whisper
& bless me with stories from your childhood
you were a lamp post at the end of my street
& i was a doorway you always liked to hold hands with
we were delicate like that
i was smoking a cigarette
& sitting on our door post
half in love & half out of my mind
half in our home & half out of time

& you were a hot cup of coffee
on my cold paper tongue
a desolate flower crying out to be young again
i was dying on the inside
you were just dying
all the love we had laid vanquished on the pavement
soaked in my lover's blood
cars aren't supposed to collide like that

but i see you now
painting my kitchen that bright red
******* my longing bed linens
******* me
writing poems on my knee caps
counting fireflies
closing your eyes

just tell me it isn't over