Poetry

The Third Day

We stand close to things to feel their warmth
Sometimes, they burn
We move away slowly, away from the pain
So that we can feel the warmth from far away.

With picture perfect clarity, I see your nightstand
The place where we lay our bodies, let our hearts land
The place where I opened up, thought you’d understand
The small and soft and fragile thing, the little heart of man.

15.VIII.2024

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