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In the dark of midwinter we stand outside the coffeeshop under a streetlamp, too close and yet too far apart. Laughter plays in my eyes, laughter and anticipation. I who have always been one to make moments am to shy to claim this one, and so it passes, and another, and another beyond it. I want your hands on my face, your hands at my waist, your hand on the back of my neck. In that half light, the moment unclaimed, I exhale and you get in your car and something I didn’t know dwelled within me shattered.

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