Mouth pressed on my mouth
Blood falls on snow

Words that buzz through skin
Stir my face

Surface finally engulfs mast
Restored now; it looks the same  

First absence of lips
New, chilled air
against pulsing ventricle

A piano whose keys are dusty
Now finger marked

My constituents begin to cluster
With yours
In humid gaps that cleave faces
Back into lines
I can keep what I can grasp

Two glinting shoals have quietly met
In some peaceable black depth
From which air has withdrawn
Press my mouth to that mouth
Blood against fresh snow