I put on my overcoat and walked into the winter and my teeth chattered rhythms.
And they were grouped in twos and threes, like a morse code message was sent from me to me.

And cars on slippery slopes were stuck: people pushing through their mittens as I was beginning
to feel like soaking through my shoes,
getting colder with every step I took to your apartment, dear.

I was a kaleidoscope
The snow on my lenses distorting the image
of what was only one of you and I didn't know which one to address as your lips moved.
This is when I foret to breathe and all the things I scripted,
They sound so unfounded.
And it's the look that you're giving me that tells me exactly what you are thinking: "This ain't working anymore."

They got their mothers worked into a panic
sledding down hills into oncoming traffic,
and parents layered clothes until the children couldn't move then
and left them outside until their noises were blue, and I got left there, too.

I put on my overcoat and walked into the winter and my teeth chattered rhythms.
And they were grouped in twos and threes, like a morse code message was sent from me to me.