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I didn't want her to die during the winter
But the spaces between her bones echoed with a fading force, and everything trembled, thin legs unstable as she walked.
Her hand in yours, you holding it as tight as possible just to try and keep her in the purple of the cosmos, but her hand would shake anyway, and you could never hold it tight enough, could never stop the pieces from falling apart.
The days were gray like dead skin and she looked out at it, through her window, with dead eyes like gray clouds.
The days were cold, too.
None of summer's yellow glow to anything, gray gray gray gray gray, and what with a world so vibrant she should die and be buried with the leaves.
Bare branches and naked trees
oh but we love you so, and the world is beautiful, it will be, don't leave us just yet.
But they'd said she wasn't worth the poison it would take to save her life, and I imagined the tumor in her brain like a second heart, but it took in life and never sent any out.
Its white tendrils snaked through her eyes, and when she looked at you they spilt her eyes into islands of diamond blue.
And she took herself closer, and she was so close to my body
so close they would have said that she would give her sickness to me, that it was our sickness, then. I wanted her to be warm, though, and I accommodated the slightness of her body, light like hollow bird bones.
And then with breath into my chest, she told me she'd never been kissed.
ut I didn't love her. I did love her, but I didn't love her. And I think that was the last time she cried.
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