Fallen frangipani at dawn

Freshly-fallen frangipani dot the streets
Smudged between tiny pockets of tar,
Liquid oozing from petals; 
a perfume that reminds me of you.

Clouds unfurl across softly-lit skies,
Like a sheet tossed over a humming luminescent lamp.
It paints everything in cooler shades of gold — 
I think of you, you should be here.

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