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Melancholia

I miss you
It seemed as simple as that, at first,
she said; wrapping another blanket round herself,
perched on a melancholic window seal,
hoping the grey clouds would turn a golden yellow
something that would cure my thirst,

it was not something I could diagnose,
that something that I was missing,
perhaps it didn’t have a shape or form,
that I could of depictured,
it was simply a feeling, she thought
a touch or smile that I was reminiscing,

it’s not getting easier,
she said closing the curtains,
what little cures that pass my time seemed sour,
it was not something I could touch
Nor hold,
nothing anything I could do, she was certain

Nothing would heal until he returned.

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