The desk was covered in papers
As though snow was falling
Piling up to the windows.
The computer screen glowed:
A cabin with a fire warming it.
Looking into the office,
I could see him staring
At the screen's glow.
I imagined him wishing
He could go inside
And warm up.
I was in a carnival of mirrors,
Looking in that office
My experience being reflected:
A drawing that should be in 3D
Lifelessly one dimensional.
Still, he sat and stared at the screen
Papers, boxes, to do lists
Snow, piling up all around
The computer glowing
Like a winter mirage.
The whiteout making it impossible
To see where the fire burned
While I died a slow, cold death
Beneath the cabin's window
Unable to get in.
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