---
eyes still closed, it was morning
when I rolled over to reach for you
but grasped only air
and later, when you still had not reappeared
my phone buzzed, angrily
I sat listening to a faraway voice
telling me, they had found
your body three days earlier
somewhere in the snow
and the rest, I couldn't hear
the memory of our pounding hearts
from the night before, too loud in my ears
and I swore, it was more real
than my own flesh and blood
but now I am standing, ghostly
before the mirror of my confusion
curiously tracing with my fingers
the black and purple bruises
on my neck
with a fatal mistrust in memory
the woman who made love to death
---