She keeps it.
She knows better
and keeps it anyway.
Not because she believes.
Not because she is waiting.
But because love
does not leave
when the truth does.
So she carries it
without naming it
like something injured
like something
she should have put down
a long time ago.
And every now and then
she looks at it
and thinks—
I cannot believe
you are still alive.
Mari Sánchez Cayuso 
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