on frost and dissipating

like Steven’s man in the snow
it takes a long time in the cold,
to know the sharp crisp edges of isolation
the echoing emptiness of alone

your red lips moving
formed obsolete letters
words of language lost,
I heard only sentences sublime

your hands pulled me
in from the cold–breath warm
enough to melt my frost

I slipped out the back door,
walking away
into the frostbitten night

quantum theory of sorts

The mud from the deep puddle
splattered on my pants
clear up to the knee
when your foot slipped
off the wet cement curb
this morning at 3am

You were dashing
between there and there
a driven look
encircling the Y-shaped scar
between your eyes

missing any context
one would assume –
you were trapped
between two alternate universes
the destination unknown
until you’ve made your choice