Can I Take A Ski Boat Into The Ocean

the time of the verb

back.
winter.

the quiet simplicity of the small
scary

a crust of blood on the knee
the acrid smell of snow in the nostrils
that feeling of suffocation when everything around is white and you have not put


boots when you get back child in those moments I want to be with you

I would tie myself to a rock and do not go away
I wish that my world did not exist

fragments of a body that bears the scars of a leather strap on the back stopped

I'm bending to pick up what you dropped out of the pockets