under her feet

the clock beat and beat
nothing happens
no wrinkle on windows
winter walks
squatting in white on the streets

thawed snails
slip from one eye to another

nothing new

once
women sigh in my heart

I had time to smoke
to drink hot coffee
to read the paper
to write
to split hairs in four
to see "green horses on the walls ..."
to

once
she
wriggle her hips with the night
with a wolf
beneath the breastbone

once
we
fit into the same shirt

oh
clock strikes among syllables
in
remaining traces

once
the words were not edges
I could hear only their breath
burned in love

the
clock beating-beating

winter sounds increasing in seconds
in her footsteps
the snow dress melts