Is this Love?

Is This Love?

Wearing the heart on the sleeve
of a shirt with ends tattered
that belonged to the one
who set with the sun
but didn’t rise again?

Basking in the glory
of little smiles
shed between the two of you
and getting drenched in the memories
of tears that trickled down
the old house?

The word that plays
on the lips that drank nectar
from the mouth that dug
into her when the winter
wore its night coat
and walked all over her?