bring me the cold

Bring me the cold.
The anger in my bones is warm.
Too warm.
It needs a rival.
It needs the Northwind and her delegates
piercing deep,
blinding the intake at my eyes,
deafening and suffocating the inlets at my face.
My soul is hot and seeks a challenger.
Bring me something worthy of fight,
of reaching fires within.
Bring me something that will make me smile,
something that meets the blaze in my eyes
and releases the will inside me.
Bring me the cold.

restless

To touch a small piece of the world
then another piece
and so on
until I touch all the colors
and all the spaces--

is to be a small piece of it.

Until then,
I am the smallest piece of nothing,
uncounted by the whole,
unknowing and unknown

restless for the rest of the world,
unsatisfied with unknowledge,
unsettled by the satisfaction of here,
my search is for deeper colors
and deeper shapes.

Give me Nepal and Tibet,
Samarkand and Baikal,
and let me change the way I see
by the memory of things seen.
Create me anew
with things already created

sameness

I wanted it to work,
wanted something to crack my hardened routine of sameness,
wanted life to take a sudden turn,
to pivot away from the familiarity of me.
I wanted something different than being single
just for a little bit, just for a moment.

But I missed the train to somewhere else,
the gravitational pull to someone else's orbit.
The close encounter spun my world
with the energy of magnets barely escaping attraction,
and I spin wildly readjusting to former orbits of sameness.