The windows are tightly shut now:
after the glass broke
almost 4 months ago
footprints palimpsest
still on the sheets
in this small room
where
quietly
the flickering triumph
of a dying light bulb
dances with the shadows.
Last night
the thunder cloud’s ovations
reminded me
I like to hear the storm
bloom in the darkness
and purple the sky
stems and petals on fire
quenched endlessly
with falling water
lullaby
I yearn for
tonight
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