Like a chill wind from the
North-end of my little sphere –
Only my heart exists now, maybe
“Another” is not a word, at all
At first I was roaming, a traveler
A tourist; such a world that did not
Sweep me off my feet then
I decided to climb to rooftops to look below
Where there were ice filling caverns
Of narrow rock – then came tremors,
A gross congregation of tumbling stone
But a conglomerate bravely stuck itself out of the wall
Wistfully I look on, some
Kind of longing overtakes hopefulness
Only because of the immediacy of now
And I always thought that I would be that rock
I walked a path named “you”
But I am not sure if I took a wrong turn somewhere
Or slipped or something
But I guess you showed me the way to –
Well, only a gust that freezes over
My now emaciated frame:
The Arctic is no northern uncharted mystery but
The largest crevasse inside of me.