Her Warmth

Warmth in numbers, finding solace in a bird that flies away once I give her food.

Needing a light but the embers won’t burn long enough.

Stuck in the middle of nowhere.

My flint finally sparks and lights up my kindle.

I can finally inhale and the warmth has finally reached me.

I sense myself being aware of the objects around me, trees are dancing with their leaves following each steps. I come back home, spending the rest of my life in my quarters.

Only to end up sleeping on a book, that I was reading the night before.

The warmth has left and the bird comes by but without food.

I doubt she will stay.

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