Baby,
I’m just a little out of season.
I’m one of those cheap leftover 99¢ cards
meant for inseparable lovers
on the only day of the year where it is appropriate
to eat your weight in chocolate
when you don’t find what you’re looking for.

And Love,
Maybe I just don’t want to share.
I want to savor the chocolates
in that heart shaped box.
They were always meant for me,
like your hand laced in mine and
our lips pressed together
under that overhang
sheltering us from the rain; all of those
broken thoughts
and broken feelings were
too much for us to bear
on our own.

But Honey,
I’m glad you’re with me.
You are the only thing I have ever known.