2.18.25

I want to be as quiet as the snow. There was the sensation, just for a moment, of falling. The snow was falling, I mean. My world getting smaller. Wondering: will anybody ever love me for me? I've run out of metaphor. I left the ocean, cut dry. One foot and then the next. I took off my words but there was still my body. I took off my body and there was something else I couldn't get my hands on. I don't think in words anymore. I stepped into the world and tried to think with my body. I tried to remember you. In your place was only pain...that kind of perfect offering, to mark the place where the light got in...when I walked away, I turned and I tried to look for you. But there was only left silence, the dark, and the faint trace of a stranger's footprints in the snow. Forget it.