you look down through the skylight

on the roof of your favourite restaurant

as the chefs in white uniforms

prepare the meal for him—

the one who once held your heart

and a ring on your left hand

the cold wing whips through

your golden, brown hair

making you shiver,

even through a thick, winter coat

and a mustard scarf

you sniffle as a single tear

falls down your rosy cheek,

wiping it away

with a gloved hand

as you exited the roof

a pink hue falls over the town

of cold spring, new york

as you walk down streets

you haven't walked down in years

reminding you of evenings

when he held your hand on your way home,

scolding you for not being prepared

for new york's autumn weather

you felt the familiar pit in your stomach

as memory lane

led you down paths you wished were covered

as you remember when he first became distant

and out of reach

all the way to the night

where he told you his heart

had left yours

the night where he left

your rented apartment

with the diamond ring on her left hand

as yours was now cold

and bare