he says December has him by the throat
the wrinkle in his memory hasn't made her less
it made him slow
the chain of love was broken and his heart
has gotten used to the tint of winter
without her warmth
night jumps his thin skin and he shivers
in his old gray coat
her sewing still tattoo's the cuffs
his heart sinks into a sky of marshmallow
and blue
as he climbs into a time machine
with a ghost from thirty years ago
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