You stamped my name into the snow and I wrote you a love song. You said ‘I loved you when I met you, do you feel the same?’ and my cold heart burst right out of its frame. Hand in hand with the love we had. The scarf I knit for the neck I bit. Your sordid grin said ‘come on in.’ My cheeks were sore. I smiled more before that December, that’s how I remember. We came in from the cold and our glasses fogged and they clinked when we kissed, so I laughed aloud I said ‘I love you but I’m weary, do you feel the same?’ and you said ‘look at this picture of us in its pretty little frame.’ And I said no and you let go. The keys I lost and the mounting cost. The plant that died, the time I cried. Words we spoke, vows we broke and all these things dismembered, that’s how I remember. I could see that your cheeks were getting cold so I planted all these kisses, but they quickly froze. You said ‘I’d love it if you left me, do you feel the same?’ I said ‘Look at the snow collecting on your glasses frames.’ We’ll stamp our names into the snow and warm up with these dying embers, trying to remember.