CHRIS J. MELANSON
PoetryArtworkFiction
“Love (short)”


The snow fell strong then turned to rain.
The streets froze up like ice-skating rinks.
He knew this,
But still,
He wanted to hear her,
He wanted to see her,
He wanted to feel her—
The phones went dead while they were talking—the storm.

He had to go.
And they never talked again.

-Chris J. Melanson 2007
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