This frost will **** me but still
we play out in the cold.

old memory,

it lingers hanging on to the tips of my fingers as the snows of yesterday melt away and the thought of tomorrow has come to stay,I still want to play,I never grew,never knew a happier time,
I cast my line back in history and catch dreams that I used to be and it all looks so good,I'll be cold never old and I'll play in the snowfalls,make snowmen,throw snowballs,come home to the fire,get warm,I should buy a postcard to send you,should package scenery to lend you,these happier times etch deep into my laughter lines and my eyes start to crease,
may the past never release me,let the police come and take me,handcuff me and make me a prisoner in the crumble,the rough and the tumble of my childhood,as I stumble,an old man,I make plans to build ships that will skip through this twilight and let the years become midnight at the start of my day.

Zachary Schless comes from Frankfurt,no less of a man for all that,
he sits in seclusion
his mind in communion with the ghosts of his youth and the truth that he sees,unlocks and frees him to do what will please him and thus he'll return to what he knows he must learn about himself.