Frost bitten window panes
those messengers of the outside world
tell me to be cautious
pulsating blood beneath my fleshy hands press against
the spyglass into an external realm where
a giant push from the heavens and the whistle of cool breath
are enough to topple me over
The quiet visitor
weighs down its baggage
as the ultimate depressive eater,
layering houses, trees, fences, cars
with thick strokes of white icing
I am forced inward; the safest refuge
where raw life rubs its eyes open
after a long sleep
catch it, seize it for my own
and I greet its arrival with my tounge stuck wide out,
It tells me to follow the icy mazes dropped from the skies and into my palms,
for their destination soon melts away into a water puddle of a lost chance
The only way I will ever come close to understanding what it's like
to live inside of a snow globe world,
where it is settled then suddenly without any warning,
things shake up real fast
hopes, fears, and murals of dreams are rounded up towards the sky
and directed downward once more to settle onto our tongues
