Poem: February 3rd

sunny side up
winter morning sky
so pretty
and out of reach
the sky is awful blue
and so am I
in the presence of you

the sun never cared
for anything or anyone
so she glows
both hot and cold
fickle as the winds
and so it is
in the essence you

what is want anyway?
is it merely
not meeting our desire?
evening sky unfulfilled
burns red
with the passing of the sun
and so do I
when glancing at you.

Shall we have a conversation?

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