The steam, froths from a 14th street rooftop, And building stacked with tawny bricks And windows lined with blue paint, Some filled with beige shades drawn, So as to soften the snowy light Of an unseen sun pushing at impenetrable clouds. The steam, Always pours forward, Comes flowing and pumping into the white sky Blending seamlessly, Like a thirsty man who gulps water without tasting it. No longer many separate spiraled puffs, Disappearing and reappearing, Dancing within, The subtle shape of the rising tunnel.

I sit leaning on statues, Like a fellow concrete form. My fellows and I watch tireless people. They carry bags and shift their clothes. They walk with blisters inside their shoes. Still above We feel the time move Soothing Across our backs and legs, Warming our bronze hearts.

Crystalline uniqueness Unclear visions Many unfortunate Car collisions When snow meets body Building igloos Piling high Melting minds Fallen sky When snow meets body New horizons White landscapes Red eyes Winterland escapes When snow meets body Sugarcoated foot Lets runaway Into wonderland Perfect day When snow meets body

The sound of peace is like the fall of dark. When the sun done yawn and lip shut his lights. When ships heave towards and disembark. A pause. All stops to start of anxious insight. So feed me quiet like a push shot. A drip so cool it stills my seasick hands. For lost on swells of blue beats lost in thoughts of grain and static grey. Without demands. It’s never long enough, the good silence And before I hear it, the rumble noise Of motion that leaks up my neck so tense, The itch of consequence plots and ploys. Alas it will return, that nothing sound of sigh to rub my back and stop me found.

My days are taken with cream and sugar. Id, wearing a cape of precious feathers Is now my ruler, and not the beggar. We fly high above the pithy druthers. I smile in lines, bask in humidity Coating the air sweetly with human sweat, Feed ducks for the sake of validity, And drink wine, love men, eat cheese and baguettes. The way an aristocrat rids her mink, Atlas can shrug my World off his shoulders. How soon before I am living in blinks? Or am Sisyphus, each day my boulder? The holes in my pockets drained out the rocks. I wish to weigh again, have my feet locked.

The woods which are left off the charted maps, Harbor creatures that keep a slower breath, Daily sunlight teaches and night entraps, Comers to the forest, in life and death. The faithful bend their knees to blessed ground They float like petals broken down by time, The faithful wilt their heads when hard thoughts sound And walls grow like mazes inside a mine. They hear sounds of guitars strumming softly, Tones flowing through strands of hair and belief , With patience new colors emerge, roughly, Prayerful eyes in darkness have no relief. Feeling as one with brim of the sun, Mama, I’m born, my time has just begun.

I can pull him out from behind my ear, Whenever I’d like him to say “Hello”, Just like The Beatles, I know he’s right here, Beneath my heart, my feet, way down below. No reason why every March nostalgia coats the inside windows cerulean and tints the ceiling lights… Hallelujah, I’m floating, I’m swimming, yes, once again. Memories on, like a middle school song, I’m covered in lights, kites, and large balloons,

When we’re together it feels so strange like Pinecones and marshmallows inside my brain, Or getting the chills on hot sunny days, Impossible as counting drops of rain. We board the train car together; its packed, Somehow, however, it’s like we’re alone, I stare at your shirt as you touch my back, In a spotlight born by passengers’ phones. The ride goes on but my thoughts don’t ease, Time changes, it’s skipping, like in a dream,

She’s listenin’ to the same song Over and over Wishing on dandelions