ON BREAK

My atoms flew apart in shadow and light.
They were ghosts, running.
They were jokes, mourning.
They are all snow people
in worlds of bright amnesia.
They give me sour sweets
to ward off
anaesthesia.
For discomfort or forfeit,
muscles relax in
shifting tableaux
of people, and winter
and stones.
Lovers, sweeping the dust from their bones
shrilling, in barren and
forced baritone-
pulled from all emnity
to sing alone.