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and when she lied down
a thousand snaps
in our minds
to scrapbook
the memory we
can’t hold onto

I told myself I’d keep
being obsessive and exhausting
if she kept
herself, everything
around

stiff as a board
but my heart racing
down the street
and back up my narrow throat

wind chimes to mark the air
to breath what I never can
they smell her as she
passes like snow in my garden