9.30.22

This kind of - 
Suddenly, it's winter again. 

I tell ______ that I want to hold hands with the wind.

And they say: the wind is cold. she will bite your hand.
I respond: I have gloves.

I just want to open myself to more of everything I can't hold. 

It turns out I'm no good at doing much else except writing poems, 

and not even ---

not even that.