A Break In The Weather

we were mistaken for sisters, two middle-school blondes,glasses sliding down noses, volleying secretsin whispers. winter storm clouds held the promiseof snow days; we crossed our fingers for blizzards. years later, we sit in her parlor, discussing our lives.we’ve forgotten much, but memories cut our mindslike dull knives – a butchery too eternalto reconsider, too sweetly painful to pass by. I drive away….

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