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It’ll be over soon, and I’ll regret the missed opportunity. But still, I just don’t get to take the photos

I guess that’s why it’s okay to keep coming back to the same place; it doesn’t change, but we do

You remember last year, and the year before, when you’d pleaded: Please, may next year be different

That’s what they told me. That just to lie still, to close your eyes and feign, that alone can refresh you

Here, too, it was each woman to her own grief. I didn’t know where to place myself

Was my need to protect my sanity greater than my desire to understand my student?