I see shutters shut
behind my window
frosted at the edges
and chimneys without smoke
flaccid shingles balance on unstable rooftops
it’s for a miracle on Earth
ugly bricks hang to their shame
and moss is dark
for it stopped holding on to life.
I see puddles of stagnant regret
some light
as warm as honey
slightly
could colour up this circumstance
without making it any better,
slightly
perhaps it’s calmer when it’s dark.  

Suddenly
the intercom rings
I open the doors of my chest,
turning the key of my pride:
it is you.
Inside me
shutters open
my eyes defrost at their edges
chimneys’ smoke pulsates with life
and all shingles are now sorted
moss is green and clings to life
trying not to spire
the warmth of your presence’s dried out every puddle
and some light
just as honey
colours up this circumstance
it makes it
a nice day.