Needlework

I used red threads
and a sharp needle,
and I embroidered a heart,
just a small one,
on the inside corner
of your brown gloves.
That way only you knew
that you held my heart
in the palm of your hand.
Our secret.

You made several cups of coffee,
climbed trees,
gave hugs,
played games,
and the small, embroidered heart

lost some threads;
warped
until it was a red smear,

but even though it's wrecked,
you know it's still there.

That's why you only wear your black gloves
nowadays.