April 3, 2018

You would assume valentine’s night to be loud

With fireworks, moans and maybe melodies


You would expect the night’s sky to be a kind of soft orange

Reflecting the mellow of new-found and patience of long suffered love


But the drag of everyday woes etches itself onto the atmosphere

And tonight feels like every other –


Plain and drained –

Like the world has gone to shreds and only lust not love is in the air.


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