In time I think I will learn to love the snow
that keeps me inside and away from lackluster screens.
You shouldn’t forget the luck that keeps me outside.  

Some day I will lock my door, thermostat at its bottom
far more bitter then the streets, safe comfort in
one… breath turns to ice in front of me, and falls off my mouth, like,
so slowly I can feel my lips
bend
…touching, scratching, twisting infection,
affecting the heart and the head but, gutless guts
left to burn in their stead, having me taste every second
and me, (re collecting sweet looks),
spits out all the bitter after tastes.

Huge white spots crowd my screen and wishes of how to be
not including, how I am able to breathe with this tremendous
heat.

So sandy neck that can’t move to speak with pride,
sits and sweats on my wrecked base, and my
(re)collection never ends with today or the next after this
because I can’t squeeze anyone like that…
Not once, not ever again.