When the Heat Turns Off

Frost, cold.
And yet there is a warmth exposed.
A shoulder is provided to sigh or cry.
And an empathy is sincere and deep.
A weeping shared is also complete.
But when the heat turns off...
A quick breeze is felt.
No pretensions here are dealt with.
This flame that burns is genuine.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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