swollen yellow light leaving

a bug is always circling

the temperature is always changing

everything comes back to life in spring

well, almost

when you see a bird

swooping down

barely brushing the fresh snow

(from the storm that you missed

because you couldn't get yourself out of bed)

as the sun is setting

that becomes a part of you

like everything else that happens

that ends up inside you

and makes up your self

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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