this infection

The day we met, the snow was
billowing down like feathers from
a swan. I know it went well because,
instead of being stricken dumb,

you hugged me when you got out of
the car. You held the door open
for me, and that was enough
to ensure I`d be heartbroken

if it didn`t work out, and it didn`t.
You never called me back. Instead,
you hid yourself and, hidden,
messed up something in my head.

Now, when I look up, I know
you only existed because of the snow.