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good-bye


Matt Robinson



up until this winter
when it got cold,
i thought you were running fine;

you knew
we were running out of time.

150km/h on a late-for-curfew rollercoaster.
seats that go back.

one-sixty to pictou-
ferry god mother watching under us.

i remember.

you took me places
i’d never been (to),
showed me faces
i’d never seen (too).

i re-re-re-remember.

you’re dear,
but i’m caught in headlights.

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