staring re-learn how to blink-- kiss windows-- inhale backwards-- descend skyward & take me with you-- i feel myself dying again & it starts with the rancorous creases of my white bed room walls today i'm wildly sick of snow & all of it's cliches-- i lay hover in my room-- eyes peeled open by the gaping mouth of death-- his laugh a kind of fear that turns bodies into wind chimes-- perched in every corner-- he smiles & eats a bag of popcorn while he surveys my routine-- my hurried scribbling of poem fragments-- rolling out my pink yoga mat to try to tame my skin & my heart-- i flurry like the snow-- uneven-- sporadic & when i was seven i remember the thrill of pressing the first tiny foot print in the back yard piled with snow-- a pristine metaphor for innocence or something like that-- opened my mouth let ice crystals land on my tongue-- parachutes deployed & melting fast-- they said their farewells as they slide down my throat-- some survived to pose on my glasses & freckled cheeks before slipping into water-- did i think about death then or is this a new thing? is it because i'm gay? & will i slip into water on the asphalt in the morning? i keep my head down when i leave out the back door-- ignore the snow as if it's symbolism can't touch me if i don't give it any attention-- oh all that romance-- each individual fragment of frost sacrificing themselves on my cheeks-- i want to turn the sun down like a volume knob so that i can pull the blinds shut & sleep this all away oh death with his blankets & his blank stare-- i have to watch him i have to watch him or he'll move from the corner-- open his cracked lips to laugh at me-- laugh the back porch with storm-- laugh my windows open & laugh the freckles off my face-- back into snowflakes where they came from-- where is the blizzard i was born in & is she still watching-- will she come back for me when my time comes to blink long & forever? i step outside-- close eyes-- lift my head & open my mouth-- the snow tastes metallic like blood & aluminum foil