but it was still cold even as the stars rose up red from mountains of pink peach and green, pitted with seeds of swollen snow to grow to go get leave away from here a horrid face of gusting envy to bursting rage tearing tears from faces of cruel men;
crueler dogs live in shadows said he, but he stood far
into the mist waiting for you, not moving
asking you, yourself, bring yourself and come closer.
not a man a tree a disfigured shadow of a silhouette in the dark
almost hiding, but confident enough to call out;
hello, paradise, leave me be
(a man who has himself) does not need paradise.
Yet, you would walk if your feet were freely unfrozen,
your mind melted by eagerness of want.
(i wish i knew nothing)