It might as well have been glitter
falling from the sky
from the way it stuck to his eyelashes
when he told me it was over
in the snowstorm of December
and the freeze isn’t quite strong enough
to grasp my heart
and I’m uncertain of what I’ve heard
because the light around him
makes us look like a fairy tale
and I instinctively grab his hands to dance
but he, just as reflexively,
pulls away
and I stumble on the ice
falling sideways into the snow bank
and by the time I get up, I’m shouting,
“Don’t you know?”
I wonder as the glitter blinds me from him,
“Don’t you understand
that this is the kind of beauty
you’re supposed to embrace?”
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