Though it is cold out the sun is still strong. I am amazed
at the amount of mist that has gathered despite the frost.
I return indoors, greeted by a body-rush of warmth, and
familiar scents, heavier now, making their way through
the chilled air I hold yet in my lungs. My eyes are still
filled with the intensity of outdoor light, unadjusted,
all I can see is the golden flame of your candle still burning
in this 16th hour.

Chagall 2017

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