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he thought he loved a woman
blonde hair that curled
around her neck next door.
I thought I loved a woman
with hair that swallowed
her neck and hid her eyes
when she looked at me.
I thought I could curl
over on the floor
call her name
hear footsteps climb.
but all the chimes and
horn outros I played for her
fell silent when the snow
first fell
her boot made the first print.
I clashed my eyes and prayed
for our winter to release us.
–
all the things I turned down
to see her hair turn around
made nothing but empty piles
and echoing mountains.
he broke all his bones
and now
he says to me
in amber
I’m alone.