(Who wants to know whether
     my heart is scalding still in this cold where
  lungs breathe melted snow every so
often, crystal air caught in twin glasses)

        -Who wants to uproot the
              depths I turn over, weaving
                   days into life worth living and
                cherishing people worth
                              the worry in mind-

                              [Who claims to be
                                      here like a
                                      break in the
                                      tide of grander things, forever in
                                      motion? whose
                                      persuasion stops those hands'
                                                  spinning for a single
                                                              implausible
                                                ­                    moment?]

                         Oh, it's you!

                                  well, that's alright then.