I watch the window closely.
Down here in the basement,
the gray walls now hold all the light we can keep.
In the melancholy conversation of money and soul-less substitutes,
I know wishing does no good.
But the presence and delight of day has left the room;
he crept up the stairs,
and through the door.
And I must politely stay,
although I could scream
for the emptiness
he has left behind.
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