Wrap your head with this material...

I have a memory of a version of myself I've never been. It is a classic ski, sliding dimly beneath the surface of snow, a remnant of another life climbing uphill. I feel the drive to find that person. I know I am that person, though she has never been me. She is bold and risky. She stays up all night dancing; at dawn she considers the feel of words in her mouth, like melting creamy moonlit ice cream fellated on a layered spoon. She is selfsame purity I cannot reach. An essence, a true name. You know me too. I feel it. "Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along." Rumi, remember? You're in me. We've met in this never-place of sleptover castle walls. You've climbed to me a thousand lifetimes already. And yet, tonight, I worry you've forgotten. Perhaps I've grown over with moss and you don't recognize me this lifetime. "I'm trapped within you" a dream pebble in your palm. Clench your fist and you'l

Feet of snow,  waves of it over days Pelting windows Sniffing graves A big enough storm stops everyone  Opportunities are mounds next to every walkway The experience of a snow storm is all the days you’ve ever spent, all the chances to be your full self...  but you stoked the fire of nevernever Perhaps hid under bridges from the one-time chance Or admitted you’d never felt Snow Grow wet Drenching an inner troll Surprising you when you thought life was softer  than the fairlane on a five-star course And instead it hurt impact shocked bare feet The blizzard soaked your carefully laid plans Spoiled your coiled coif And left you feeling less than Less than what anticipation prepared you to be. The experience of a snow storm is all the days you’ve ever spent, all the chances to be your full self... In its face, you boasted To know it all Spewed false information Defended your view like a cat who never did admit she’d fallen “Nuh uh”