The silence of wood

The snow coloured ash

  melting

Both are the same

I see one, it sees me

I ask the snow

Its breath grins blackness and then calms

I'm sorry, little one

I'm sorry to be demeaning

I'm sorry I couldn't give you more than a few bottles of water

The silence of her sell

"Would you like to buy a watch?"

Polite, sincere, not desperate

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