I put on my overcoat and walked into winter - my teeth chattered rhythms
and they were grouped in twos or threes, like a morse code message was sent from me to me. cars on slippery slopes, they're stuck: people pushing through their mittens as I was beginning to feel it soaking through my shoes, getting colder with every step I took to your apartment, dear.
and I was a kaleidoscope: the snow on my lenses distorting the image of what was only one of you and I didn't know which one to address as all your lips moved.
this is when I forget breathe all the things I scripted, they sound unfounded.
And the look that you're giving me, it tells me exactly what you are thinking:
"this ain't working anymore."
they got their mothers worked into a panic
sledding down hills into oncoming traffic
the parents layered clothes until the children couldn't move then kept them outside til their noises were blue and I got left there, too.
i put on my overcoat and walked into winter, my teeth chattered rhythms. and they were grouped in twos or threes like a morse code message was sent from me to me.
