Rejuvenation
the hollow flame of christmas
is but a memory
suspended in the wind;
unanimated and sore.
a discordant lullaby
self-seething
and unsettling to the touch.
resonating within
the emptiness
a frost-bitten chill
no amount of soothing
could thaw.
and in all my selfishness,
not once did i wonder
if maybe it wasn't
meant to be felt
like it was - and did
that very first time.
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