This, your gift

The worst gift, this,
what you left behind,
when we turned different corners,
after I hurled words at you, this,
this is what you slyly slid into my palms.

Unawares I went home,
with no hand in mine,
no fingers entwined,
with a possible heart
full of love.

Now he is standing beside me,
and when he smiled, this, your gift,
lifted over my eyes,
like a light veil,
or a bright volcano, of
my inability, to
love anymore.