My heart is still buried in your closet
under your shoes.
Inside the old green pair, the ones you wore in Italy.
When it rained in Milan and we skipped on cobblestone.
Do you still wear those sneakers?
I hope you do
Because my love for you remains woven in the fabric,
intertwined between the laces.
I haven’t seen your face
Or said your name in two months.
But I hope you still remember me with every step
like a pebble trapped under your foot.