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My heart is a house with a chimney,

a door and a hand­ful of crooked windows.

I burn candles in those windows

for all those

I have loved.

 

Their flames fill my chest

with warmth and light,

even of Canberra’s

cold­est, darkest winter night.

 

But your candle lets off

 

thick

 

black

 

smoke.

My other candles begin to choke.

 

Fuck you.

 

I blow that candle out.

And wel­come back

my light.

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