i see you in
the forest-
as the pinecones
that haven't
fallen off the
evergreens-
yet.
and i see you
as the rust
that decays the
corporate vision-
of life;
traveling
the backroads
of my
heart-
forging
trails
that i forgot
had even existed.
library chairs-
i watch you
from the poorly
insulated window
in my bedroom-
and the chills
seep in,
climbing my
skin, hugging
my veins.
don't let
the calendars-
or the sundials
tell us what we
want.
picture me
when you take
your sheets
off the line-
a crisp new world.