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Inside our houses
heat has dried us out,
parched our skin white–
the houseplants curl
in on themselves,
dreaming of deserts.
Outside our storm doors
the world shifts beneath
its frozen weight, deep
in its own dreams.
Step outside.
This whole world
only needs
a tiny cup of your heat
to melt it into
what winter’s old stories
even the thickest ice
can become
a soft summer rain.

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