He walked me home

He walked me home last night On the air was old spice, strong, briefly, twice. He made it clear that he´d seen me there, almost to the door, but from there he´d go no more. When, an hour before, I´d sat at where I believed he´d breathed his last. Looking to the ground; the snow,Continue reading “He walked me home”

This mourning

This morning this mourning feels meager. By tonight it will speak in words I never knew I´d hear. Both whisperable and visceral. In languages I never thought I´d have fluency. A language I never wanted to learn, memories I´d rather burn, realities I want to neglect, emotions I prefer to deflect. LT. 03/13/2023 *MkatK

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