coldness and glitter
Filled solution reaching the throat
Listening when nobody speaks,
We find pleasure in cutting paper into fine uneven
Big and small
Fire in us
frozen speaking, hating clean love.
Even in the depth of a game, we were obvious to trace ourselves.
In our possession,
thesaurus of cracked glitter
handfuls of blur.
We check time in a hurry and leave.
Dizziness as shadow
Plain song of snow
Whenever I go to a new city
I listen to a bird.
Then I try to figure the notes,
keys and scales.
Fresh and unstable geographies.
I count till the date of departure
I often get calculation of lines in a sonnet wrong though.