hands cold so cold hands not like
icicle toes like blueroses more
gunmetal bright and sharp at the corners
of mouth, her red muscle
but how it would feel to be quoted
out of context, I couldn't know

streets quiet as last night and
the night before and
the night before
the night
sleeping or driving, headlights
headed always out of town, so I watch
my head about it, my feet on leaves
over pavement one-two one-two one-two breathe
harsh shallow over lines double I cross
over black-lined avenues of asphalt and tar
from cigarette instead of what I meant to say
from cigarette instead of what I shouldn't eat
from amphetamine instead of coffee instead of smoke
from burning leaves, warm rot under
hands so cold

.