Weather Channel Melancholy

A blanket for the goosebumps,
and soup for the soul.
The white pearls drape the streets –
though the rivers of my caves run hot.

The lights of my shelter dimmed for comfort, as a gentle kiss blesses my forehead.
My eyes glazed on that screen, my ears smiling at the soft jazz it plays.

A prolonged vacation.
Another morning comes.

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