so close to the picture, to the ideal, that i can feel what it pictures, what it feels like. did you think i would melt down like the ice on the back roof? cause i’m still standing hear, and i’m thinking of spring. i’m alone; high time for a change in the weather. out in the snow there’s no one, no one to talk to. and i see out my back window the roofs with their ice, and i’m wondering: does it mean we have to freeze over. (so we’re close, closer to something than we were yesterday, but i’m feeling the space between us grow deeper. just like the snow it turns up the contrast on our world. and, i’m thinking we need less between us.)
When i’m supposed to be melting down, thinking of spring is me trying to prove that i’m not going to dissolve in her warmth. That was the rationale, at least.