Winter says,

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My fingers feel flowers;

Rusted swing chains;

Standard, pale, blue poles;

The touch of people who stay,

But they return to emptiness.

I walk along city streets

And broken pavements which

Water conversations for two

But the darkness is haunting.

The moon asks me for you.

I remember those rough hands;

Lines that gave you the freedom to fly.

I remember travelling over them,

Seeing my world within their grasp-

With dreams to hold and a future

Too beautiful to be mundane at all.

“Where are you, darling?” again,

The winds whistle to me.

I look at the stars, the deep blue sky

Ceilings seem too far-I don’t know why

My hands are clueless, catching misery.
Lines blurry, confused, craving, today.

“But wait for the interval!” I fervently say.

The lens will show me scaling, anon!

Threads will hold each other tight and

Rush to make rough, familial vines,

You watch! I’ll sail over winds and oceans.

I’ll chase the sun! I’ll befriend the trees.

The moment winter enters my skin,

Telling me, “Open your eyes and

Just see yourself awake, for once.”

~~~

Inspired by the movie La La Land! 🙂

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