11:67 PM

needle sharp wind cutting across skin,

pause.

look up and actually look

the moon- it is there

it is shining, lighting up a corner of the sky

‘excuse me’ and a gentle shove past

and feet begin to move again

before stumbling because the moon

has taken a captive

look down, breath the needle sharp air

shoulders shake, but icy fingers are curiously still

cross the road- was it clear?

under yellow lights

where the wind cannot go

colors and shapes flit by

without the cold

it is impossible to tell where the body ends

and the world begins

what time is it?