I knew it even as we stood on the seafront steps, your key in the lock, looking back at the fishermen’s lights.
Nothing on earth would keep you.
That story – how the Snow Queen touched the boy. One second only but an icy splinter entered his heart, to bloom and blossom there. That’s how it is – a pond all frozen over. Small fish, snapped twigs, your drowned or drowning lover.
Her streaming hair.