After your hands
shredded ribbons up my neck
I saw the lawn release itself from its white cast
underneath it was decay
a smothered-color green
Your warmth was like a trick of spring
now I watch it snow again
one two three four five six seven more
inch upon inch of your heavy chill
a foot cracking rib branches
your pressure a torrent of white
love tugged at the trunk of me
shaking hair and leaves free
but it’s not freedom like that.
I’m one last bud on the bone of a tree.
Somehow I saw a spine through the snow
roads making hands and bodies,
roads remaking me.
It takes miles to feel free
It takes digging yourself out
of the snow,
out from under miles of a man
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