Angie, I've seen my mom wrestle two cops to the ground with a taser dart in her neck, and you cry when your shoes pinch. Good luck, Bambi!
I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried. For a year I have called every black tree Marya Morevna; I have looked for your face in the patterns of the ice. In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.