Hard Winter
from october in the snow on the way home from the play
I used to be a home within myself
An island where I was tree and roots and hard winter
I got so used to being hard winter I would
cry at snowfall and forget to hold out my soft tongue
Just reaching for it inside
What once was an immovable force
Has certain melted only briefly for
Now when I wake up in my soft morning skin
And there is a light at a skew so present and
bright, maybe too bright, I realize
I have forgotten a certain burn I used to love
Now I hug easy and often
And the kisses flow natural so normal now
Like waterfalls like chore charts getting checked
Because there is no better way to say it
Besides denoting that time when music was mine and
mine alone
Guitar like a breeze on a burn
Like a gauze holding skin
that hardened kind
the kind I never learned love through
only self preservation
as I miss the breeze that once flew through the island
that I taste, again, next to southbound trains and when I am alone at night by the warehouses
and I feel it creep it
I call like 5, 6 people but still, only you, pick up.
love,
sleo
👏💐😭