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Frozen House by Nora Nadjarian

All the robins turned white, even their lashes (if they have lashes). There is no border between white and white. Will we talk again once our voices have thawed? How cold I am in this bed and all the heating on. In that scene in Doctor Zhivago, she hates him for entering the frozen house. There’s a candelabra she can’t face because the flame is dead. Where will I go? she wonders. Where will I magically disappear to? Yesterday, my feet crunched all the way from the forest, today they will crunch all the way back. The bear’s breath is warm, its voice large. It says Did you say goodbye to love? Keep your coat on a little longer.


Nora Nadjarian is an Armenian–Cypriot poet and short story writer. She writes in English and Armenian, as well as Greek. Her writing mostly centres on the island of Cyprus, especially the partition of Cyprus into North and South, though there are numerous works of universal themes

Frozen House was chosen by Sarah Fletcher as the winner of the Anthropocene Valentine's Day poetry competition.


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