Dust & Wick

Fear isn’t an option
laying beneath
the ceiling fan
and seeing in
lack of movement
how the years
accumulate along
the edge
of the blade
collects pieces
of the world
burnt ablaze
by dust and wick,
when I realize
that I love her, Winter,
almost just as much
as I love him
who wears
the constant face
of Summer.

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3 thoughts on “Dust & Wick

  1. idiotwriter says:

    Love how one line floats into the next. Soothing as much as it baits your thoughts to process better the sentiment.

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