Sunday, January 9, 2011

The Blizzard




Buried beneath snow drifts and bookshelves
you awaited my engine,
whose pistons and fires drove rubber through compacted snow,
but spared no heat for the cabin.
With precipitating breath and gloved hands
I followed tracks to meet you,
amazed by the continuity of open roads and uncautious drivers—
somehow oblivious to coefficients and inertia,
'til your warmth did greet me
and my hollow bones filled.

I thought about entropy
and at what cost we breached the disorder,
to share this moment,
as coffee became cold and my cheeks flush

and I learned in your room,
amidst chatter and mixtapes,
why watches should never glow
as the night became timeless

and on my way home,
I searched for an answer:
"Who are you today,
when you've fallen in love?"