Kristian Sendon Cordero - MELANCHOLY

YOU can’t fly it in the wind,
or it becomes a whirlwind.

You can’t plant it in the earth,
or the earth will tremble.

You can’t cast it to the waves,
or the sea will be feverish.

But you can only warm it
Around the fire in the company
of strangers while rubbing your palms
together and bringing them to your face,
neck, chest, forehead.

Outside dreams freeze
and the smell of burning hair spreads.