23 Degrees Celsius

Sorrow is in my apartment

where the lights
shine as they have hued 
many times before
but not on this cold night
that surrounds me.
Thirtysix years
I lived with my thoughts
but the apple tree is bare today
with many leaves gone,
knees and arms twisting. 
Masses of branches praising
the sky, begging for rain
to shower their roots
brown and slick, pray
every morning at 5am.
The grief in our hearts
is not mightier than us
because you are my joy
and today I noticed it
while seeking your kiss.
I would like
to have one on my cheek
then another on my forehead
causing a fall into brown eyes
a collapse to the lips near them.


 

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