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Non Sequitur

We slept on the floor

in a great, big brown room

with walls the color of

cherry oak and

a ceiling as tall as the

mountains.

He told me that

if I kept crying so much we

would not see each other,

and complained about a

cold wind and having to piss.

We talked that night and

I knew he had never

loved me, not

completely or irrevocably or

any way I had

imagined in distant

dreams.

Still, I thought about

dying stars and

supernovas and

said that I would not cry in

that little oakwood oasis,

where we slept the first night

of 2017.

 
 
 

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