precarious against the
steep mountain of your heart
the noise i thought was my life
leaving the spacious quiet
of a question laid bare:
What is the distance between dreams and oblivion?
snow answers in a cold voice
darkness illuminates traces of knowing, buried
beneath deciduous syllables of light.
i am waiting for something else to happen
rivers to melt, rushing towards spring,
to the distant possibility
of something more innocent,
climbing towards light
scattering transparent code
inside the border