You know it never has been easy. Whether you do or you do not resign. Whether you travel the breadth of extremities. Or stick to some straighter line. Now here’s a man and a woman sitting on a rock. They’re either going to thaw out or freeze. Listen. Strains of Benny Goodman. Coming through the snow and the pinewood trees. I’m porous with travel fever. But you know I’m so glad to be on my own. Still somehow the slightest touch of a stranger. Can set up trembling in my bones. I know no one’s going to show me everything. We all come and go unknown. Each so deep and superficial. Between the forceps and the stone

I’m traveling in some vehicle. I’m sitting in some cafe. A defector from the petty wars. That shell shock love away. There’s comfort in melancholy. When there’s no need to explain. It’s just as natural as the weather. In this moody sky today. In our possessive coupling. So much could not be expressed. So now I’m returning to myself. These things that you and I suppressed. I see. something of myself in everyone. Just at this moment of the world. As snow gathers like bolts of lace. Waltzing on a ballroom girl