Let’s Just Lay Down in the Dark

I am thinking about what is to stunted at the root.  A growth cut back.  What it is to move so close to the warmth but still find oneself trapped outside, breath frosting doily-sized spheres on the chilled windowpane.  Just enough heat within to make the wall that separates us opaque. 

The irony is not lost on me that I am thinking about the Little Match Girl on a 100+ degree night.

500+ words elsewhere 

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