As Is

There is nothing magical here

Only occasional temporary traces

Of tango-like steps

Left on the snow white ground

Near the place where I

Occasionally lay down to

An intimate moment

And a soft music

Filling the air

with some particular magic;

Ah, Ah, facts, general, specific

do not make a big fuss about!

Sometime it’s sweet

Sometime it’s bloody

Sometime it makes sounds

Sometime it stares and smiles!

And then the next song

And then the next voice

And the breath-ins and the breath-outs

And the turn-lefts and the turn-rights ...

And then I try to follow

Those traces that intersect

And diverge before our time

Comes up, and I say:

I think it’s snowing again,

And I need to figure out

what color it is this time!

And you whisper “was that cum-

your emotional brain

or was that cum-

your logical brain?”

And then we both laugh!