Snow
As a desert does not know,
as oceans I find,
As I wake up,
the heavy snow
drifts over footfalls
laying it
bare on the hill;
bones and features –
stone’s memory,
a seashell;
but I looked
and they were gone
just as the one
who moved her head
and laughed
had gone inside her season,
I went like snow into the ocean;
this is how it ends and begins.
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