If I squeeze the chaos,
'' '' make it into a snowball in my hand,
'' '' leave it as it is,
'' '' leave it downhill as it is,
I will freeze in the face of the loneliness,
the loneliness that I can only reach,
the 13-hour journey of a handful of abstract cards that are more than tangible,
in the heat of a winter season.
yes, those striking moments last for hours.
the loops are endless, measurable and limitless.
If the strings escape me
woe is me.