I woke up
with the grey light of December
squeezing through cracks in the blind,
thinking back at when I used to take photographs
and how keen I had been once
that they be a lasting reminder
I had mattered.
I could give away all of my money
and really disappear, I think next,
recede into a Winter
that feels so much bigger
when you're in its middle.
I blow out the candles in my head
and imagine the billowing smoke
spelling out the year
above our dining room table.
Lost but still looking.
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