A Christmas reindeer who never flew with Santa Claus
and chose instead to wander through a city that refuses to turn wintery.
Even today, on a day in December, the trees are still in bloom
and the canopies remain green, red, and orange.

A city off-season, just like him.

He feeds on Christmas flowers and Christmas cacti.
He hears her magically — just as it happens to anyone
who is enjoying their favorite ritual,
their favorite coffee.
The one that, once completed, is followed by a full stop. -.-

(Or perhaps it is followed by one of those delicious little sandwiches
or that cupcake with the creamy decorations,
the kind that feels like a dreamlike cloud,
where every bite is like mounting that cloud
and taking a ride above Fokionos,
without a plan, without a specific destination.)

The blue inside the reindeer?
The effect of every beloved ritual.
The one that has its own hour and time for each person.
After all, time does not really exist —
or we may necessarily and intermittently forget it —
which makes the “period” or the “comma”
in describing this concept equally unnecessary.

The glowing Christmas star?
It could be one.
It could be two.
It could be as many as each person sees.

The reindeer is emotionally high,
existentially leaning,
daily enchanted —
which is why he sees the moon as well.

Because he is Wondering.
And because he is curious,
he chooses to get lost somewhere else in the world.
In this city.
In this somewhere.

Because he has Reign:
the strength — the authority — to choose.

After all, why should he fly relentlessly all night with Santa Claus,
handing out free gifts across the world?
The world is not wonderful.
And certainly not everyone deserves gifts.
And it surely isn’t enough for children to be “good”
and for adults to show love only during a festive season.

Love is needed all year long.

Especially in February.

The one that lasts four years, every year.

The one that is melancholic, lonely, and cold.