winter is
a fine station for all the blueprints
randomly travelling by

and i'm going long, all the way to st.outfit
blissful in my rectangular skin
feather-like
smiling mostly

i

cross the forests to reach skillful forgeries
keep the few, save the best
the last and the less
for the new year's feast

i
leave the least
springing footsteps out of the same kind shell
heel-shaped
and eager
to switch on further wide conquests

there i leave and i smile

the ground feels just like
a white scented candle
on a very white plate
on a very white mile