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The Absence of her Warmth
If she no longer comes to you to lick her wounds,
don't ask for her trust,
because she no longer does.
If her tail is tucked at the touch of your hand,
don't try to lend her affection,
because you no longer can.
If she whimpers when you speak,
stop telling her stories,
because she won't listen.
If she stops longing for you,
don't beg for her attention,
because you don't have it.
To her, you are the old bone buried in the backyard, the forgotten scars dancing across her neck, and the chill crawling up her spine.
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