our fears are bought from somewhere else

I've got thin blood and a thin sheet of ice on my car windows.
My music is found crumpled in my backpack and my phone is always threatening death.
This feels better already even though not much has changed,
there's a deep breath to combat anxiety
a sense of time at my fingertips.

I love the audible lisps of ugly casanova, cold air that seems tolerable when still,
full moons and the blue early morning light that fills the room.
I love lists of things I love.