Tuesday, 9 February 2010

she calls

She calls me in the middle of the night

it’s over - she sighs

and the echoing ring tone travels down the line

I lower the head set and stare into the night

Even the stars struggle to shine

Overshadowed by the street light

Yellow and warm,

A false star.

My skin is dry and cracking,

Though not from the bitter cold that knocks outside

But instead

I am suffocating in my own man made environment

I have set the gauge to 28 degrees

It’s a cold night and I don’t want to feel alone.

Artificial warmth,

Artificial light -

Artificial love.

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