Makeshifting, we crinkled our hopes, delicately.
In keeping with the theme, the softest
Sounds left us enthralled.
Pills rattle in a jar,
Rustling leaves as the ground freezes.
I don’t remember how to not listen, in the
Silence, for your deep steady breath in the dark.
I don’t forget the
Omens that rattled from your lungs, or
Notices that cracked from between your joints in the evenings.
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