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  • I want to return to the cabin we rented in the wilderness, it was winter, and it snowed, the frost against the window, there were deer prints, and the air smelled of icy pines, and the fire from the wood stove, warming our hands, while the whiskey burned our throat, it felt so good, the shelter, inside you, with the wool blanket and your fur, that night, if you recall, we heard coyotes, they were howling, their growls ricocheted throughout the valley, and also the shooting stars, how we both exclaimed when we saw the sky suddenly flash, brighten, a plume of light, zippering across the dark horizon, so quickly, before we could even finish our gasps, the moment was gone, vanishing, in a blink--just like you.
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