Do you remember that day last winter?
You were wearing that sweater, the one I always talked about.
I asked you to dinner and you never answered.
I spent all summer wondering what I did wrong.

Red wine and T-Rex and photographs of your friends,
snapshots of you smiling, standing next to Spanish cliffs.
I had on my black dress, the one I never wear enough.
Cold air and no blankets so you turned on the furnace.

And if you showed up I’d surely jump, surprised at the sight of you.
You who promised never to return to anything that you once knew.
Has it really been so long?

I’m still waiting for you to say...

that you remember that day last winter.
You were wearing that sweater, the one I always talked about and
I asked you to dinner and you never answered.
You spent all summer wondering why you never called.