There is // no tomorrow // blue sky drowning and leftover questions // through the snow, an end is distinguished // where so many divert their paths, paving into the ground // ice is all that’s left, this is how the cliff is found // if

When you bite your jacket,

you taste the salt that has soaked in,

all the times you have worn it.

But there is no detaching-

you have sunken your teeth into a moment.