is not a question I can answer or
sentence I can finish.
It’s a tightrope from you to me,
you could say. Or a rope to follow
in the haze of a blizzard. Heck,
I’d say. It’s the blizzard.
So we dance—
you want to know, and I don’t want to say.
Away and up, we sashay
around the outskirts of my name.
Away from vowels and letters,