Subtle December

Cold weather not so chilling, for here the sun is hot whenever it moves.

A slightly fresher breeze inspiring to those walkers who ramble to think.

Green are the sidewalks, and wet, the drab bricks glow now as the day’s up.

Inside, the futile commodious colours draw an expired mood supposedly familiar.

Twilight grey and serene, I envy its placidness, lose myself admiring it too often.

The fingers get used to be senseless and from what I know, they don’t mind.

The bodies become stale, pale and frail, as unenergetic as droplets sliding off the walls.

The ears now hear the troubled mind, wrapped tightly in a woolen unnerving hat.

Dawn comes as a privilege but is tiring to sleep out of habit when rest brings no calm.

Outside the fog dissipates along with a rushed neighbour, he knows me, I say nothing.

Blue and ashen falls the lack of you upon me, awning my already dismal heat.

A louder yawn awakes this heart from woozy visions of a teal-eyed blonde lost by now.

Warm is a throat who drank you once, your esse tasted like none other I’ve met so far.

I miss you this December.


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