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Whiteout by Sarah Miles

Whiteout

As I exhale, my breath catches
sharp air and I see my words
dance in the space between us,
bump into yours, snag on
the frosty apologies that spin from
your thin lips.

Snowflake-memories nestle on my eyelashes;
I blink them away and you are gone ā€“
your footprints heavy in the delicate snow.
.

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