This is just to say that

Sometimes

When I look out of my window-

recently glazed with abstract patterns that

are sharp and icy and strangely lovely-

Everything quiet, perfect, blindingly bright;

I have these insane urges to

lay naked in the snow so that the

particles would cling like thick, powdered

dust to my skin and then

melt,

slowly so slowly until

droplets run races to my toes

rushing down valleys

tracing jutting bones and hugging curves

to the finish as I 

breathe air so frozen it’s like

tasting oxygen for the first time;

being born, maybe

wet and pink and cold and slightly crazed

with wonder so 

much wonder because the world 

is alien and beautiful and 

brand-new.