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  • some things I remember about the end: the sharpness of your shoulder blades; the words, unspoken, swirling in my head (eager to escape, but caged); a string of sorry horses; your labored breath.

    i remember taking you to sit outside beneath the fig tree that shared your seasons; you were skeletal and disappearing yet the relics of our bygone days were hanging, still, or stuffed in closets behind endless rows of dry-clean only dresses.

    a moment in the car cut short by her plastic interruption, i collapsed into my brother's reason, in front of suitcases and strangers, maybe she had a break up? or perhaps just a fight with a lover? no one guessed the rest, the mess within my chest, camouflaged regrets... there, still, they fester, fanning embers of my grief-small and significant, waiting. to set ablaze a pile of paper memories and with it, all that I miss about you.
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