26 February 2017: Stopped in my tracks by this poem today, available on the Poem of the Day Podcast.
Here are the closing stanzas:
And I’m not sure, driving home
later that night, still smelling the pallid citrus,
whether it’s merely hallucination, the way
her memory inhabits me; or if being
in that same room, inhaling
that same air, made some of her
part of me.
And whose veins
are these, beginning to twitch?
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