I started counting
the things
that melt my heart..
after recalling your smile..
fade in the sky off the beach.


On finer days, sunset soaks typical
coastal fog, magenta kneaded
in the fold; a motley ran over its
sides like gelato drips from a cone..
such was the scene from the beach lot.
I thought about standing in the sun
too long, heat gathering over your face..
enclosed, limbs turning limp.


I counted recurrent scenes connected to
an autonomic sensation, when the hair stands
inside your chest, recounted a few of you..
waning more and more in frequency and ardor.
I thought about memories we forget
are latent only.. a precise fragrance
registers a mentality of years ago..
like yesterday.
I counted the things
that make me melt..
my sister's smile at play..
streets worn with familiarity.. to find
I am ice.







An old write I'd like to put behind me.

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