"take note," he says with tiniest smile,
as he lights the simplest fire.
in his eyes I can see the reflection
of the ambers, of the stars, and
small secrets he doesn't mind sharing.
in seconds the fire goes out
and we plunge into darkness.
we are surrounded by nothing but
emptiness and cigarette butts.
"don't worry, i won't leave,"
but i can already feel his grip loosen.
I've been working on The Iconographer all evening, and I'm finally getting inspired again.
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