My hands smelled like cinnamon
It was almost Christmastime
You had made me hot chocolate
And the taste was so sublime
You were extra generous
With your smiles that Saturday
You’d said that we were “just hanging out”
And I had said that’d be okay
But as I watched your eyes crinkle
And snow fell from your coat to my floor
As you laughed in that crooked way
I knew that I’d always want more
I had never felt so brave
So confident in both our affection
I took your hand and said some things
And you were confused at this new direction
You eyes clouded over – no more crinkle
You quickly took a step back
Words blew out of your mouth like leaves
As if I’d launched an attack
I stood there as my cocoa grew cool
And my heart did the very same thing
You stumbled and sputtered and mumbled and muttered
Christmas wouldn’t bring what I’d hoped it would bring
My hands smelled like cinnamon
On that December day five years ago
I haven’t seen you since but I’ll always remember
The coldest boy I ever could know
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