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Dear Emma

Dear Emma

Did you cry into these curtains?
press silk to skin as you wept
glimpse through the dreamy blur of tears
to flowers nodding outside on the end of curved stalks like boats on a port in summer

did you whisper oaths to each other on these stone cut stairs?
fret over unfinished letters?
feel your palms pressed between your back and the age-old moss
as you leaned back over the bannister
with the wind as sure as your dying day against your cheek

you existed in colour
you were solid as the stone and the silk
which outlived you
and will outlive me