this winter grounded me, froze like wet shoes to
smoking steel, like a warm angry tongue to
cold sheets. this winter grounded me like a disorientated
goose, two fields behind and wondering when
everyone else was going to catch up.
the thaw started inside myself, the thaw started breaking my glaciers and
setting tiny chunks of me
into the sea. my gears are groaning back to life,
is more than something we talked about
on a crying Tuesday night, sitting and staring, wondering
when the other was going to catch up.
frozen, thawed, back in flight,
the sun is more than something we talked about
in our sleep.