Midnight

Have I always lusted for the past?
Always longed to walk down Rouen
Avec une baguette in tow.
Always wished my present moment
Were coloured and blushed
With the pigment of nostalgic memory
Glossed with centuries-old ink.
Do the shards of heartbreak fester like a quill
Or does the spirit heal over them?
Dissolving like glass into glass.
Until the vase's cracks have reached perfection.
Stained windows, glowing in the moonlight.
A great intelligence, cursed by a speck of sadness.
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