Sarah Cohen

Glancing Back At Never

I recognized signs. Green skies and still air.
You stopped saying I love you before I went to bed, just before I left you to do whatever you did while I slept.
But I was surprised when the tornado touched. It so long hovered above us.
The last time it twisted through our home, you, your lover and our money swirling through the air as you grabbed all you could, and tossed me outside to fly and fall to a hard landing.
God Himself gave me shatterproof bones, which you both depended on and took

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