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The timber arrived
grey on the outside
red within
split
encompassed by paper
matches
burning
into embers
ash
upon my hands now
blistered
cut
weathered
through hair
sweat
my forehead
face
wrinkled
forlorn
distant

waiting
cold air
winter
you need to arrive
I’m barely alive
in here
without you
your fire
lighting me up
open the door
smile once more
at me