Up before the sun, Disney fields encrusted, heavy frost crunch,
singularly satisfying tiny destructions. Sugar coated impressions
of our comedy feet map duck-waddles (thought I was cooler).
A quiet & private world for solitary unwelcome cars
brandishing brash full beams, neutered in velvet black,
their cautious navigation muffled in sub zeros.
I feel safe, remote, detached from the noise of the wrinkle,
the rush of unharvested ambitions swept into piles at the end
of year. Let’s burn them, warm ourselves like chestnuts, get
a tan. The sound of our breath unfamiliar, exhale follow twelve
month after inhale. This time to think, this precious moment
in which I want you, call you, make the air vibrate with the
sound of your voice. We would designate it ‘ART’ & laugh, rub our
faces in the stars & shower in meteorite tails with no one to
witness our delirium.