She says she's still mad at him
for not fighting this thing, whatever it was.
"I've been a widow for three years," she says.
"He just gave up!"
She's still yelling at him,
as she did when he messed himself,
or when he himself yelled because some neuron,
shooting its last spark
,
had tripped the yell reflex.
But she was speaking to herself, to him-in-her,
to her beloved.
 
 
^^^
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