Minus eight degrees
Sky clearer
Than the blue nothingness of infinite bliss
Alongside, a thin strip of finite horizon
The brightest, most brilliant white light, as though
An illicit affair would be any less exiting
Quiet highways
Open their floors before me
Fringed with snow and frost
The worlds trees form the shape of weeping willows
Their untarnished beauty as innocent
As the first fantastic secretive date
In the roadside diner
Hash browns, eggs over easy
Pancakes with maple syrup, before the open roads
Endless travels: sublime distant peaks for guidance
Suggestions of the calmness that came after
The rampant excitement of our first consummation
