Foreigners In A Living Room

Its presence was felt,

not for its height, or its mighty radius branching out in my living room,

Its presence was felt,

not for the traces it left behind;

pieces of him that reminded me of Hansel’s trail of breadcrumbs,

pieces that made me fear for the day it would find its way back home,

and back home would not be with me in my living room,

very much so, that my living room did not belong to me,

or me to it! 

Its presence was felt,

not for the chain of the blue lights that I forced on it,

which shined through the night, proudly, like a train of a peacock on display,   

Its presence was felt,

not for its foreign aroma, belonging to a long-forgotten forest,

or for the happiness it brought to the eyes of a child once passed by my window,

Its presence was felt,

for the aura it left in me, that forced me to think of it as a He!

His presence,  

with a foreign aroma that chained me in an illuminated blue dream,

was felt!

His presence was felt, for it touched mine; 
we were two foreigners in a living room!

* For the mightiness the first christmas tree in my living room brought to my days.