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My Ever

Instead of any of yesterday’s angry poems, I’m posting one written over two weeks ago. It is dedicated to my beautiful friend, who hasn’t ceased to amaze me during this magical, intense year — and probably never will.

                  to Eija

I’ll remember your frail figure
sitting on the window sill
at the end of the corridor where
my life pulses pulses pulses
with purposes and reasons
I’ll remember your gentle smile
hovering so close so real
as close to real as—
The air has changed
in a second for a second for ever
for my ever