When things unravel with such fury,
you conclude Something must be held responsible.

A master fly-fisherman of blame, you cast out –
though the Something is just things as they are,
disguised as the fear you hold tight to.
Or the Something might be the crown jewel
of all your denied cravings.

Either way, you hadn’t expected lonesomeness
to be so vast. You didn’t know
it would reach right into you
with its prairie wind hands,
even when you’re with someone you love.

A nameless urge tugs at your navel.
Sometimes you follow it head-first,
fevered with lust, careening
into wonderland.
Sometimes you turn instead,
both hands steady on your heart,
and look inside,
the way winter taught you.