Don’t forget
to remind you to remember me again.
Or is it,
remind me to remember you?
Either way it’s confusing,
shrouding me in shadow,
and blinding me.
You come and go,
‘walking the wolf.’
Maybe we still have time to be.
Maybe between grief and forgetting,
we still have a chance.
Or is it already too late
and all our misfortune came from the fact?

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