I like wool socks.
I like breathing cold air--
the way it numbs in my throat.

I like watching cars drive endlessly,
staring across an avenue at tires and shades of paint, windows and blurred hubcaps. I like catching the brief moments in time when the streets are quiet.
I like empty bottles and barriers and running my finger through a candle flame.
I like trying to capture the brief moments in time
when the house is silent.