I'm having one of those days
Where my thoughts go South
And breathing gets tough
And icicles stick to my
Vocal chords
And the snow is so thick
That my blood striped hand
In front of my face
Disappears.
And eventually
After a while
I need a map
To find my way back
North.
But I'm so far South
That my fingers are too frigid
To make a snowman.
And my mind's too numb
To think South anymore.

I held out my hand hoping for someone
An unexpected grasp to be received.
But for now
We weep
Listen to grass
when it hushes to trees
and for a second I am silent
You blink.
For a second my thoughts pause
and my finger remains on the button
frozen
For a second we stop...
For a second we discover time.