
I could see your shoes next to mine with my eyes closed, but when I opened them they just weren’t there. No stressed leather or denim with tears. Your blood-tinged lips laid to rest some place else. If you had been beside me would I just mistake you for dead with your snow fallen skin. Maybe you are dead and I just find new ways to mourn because it’s been over 1,400 days of winter and your body is still warm in my mind.