If we didn't meet sometimes in snow
(the worlds that blew away--
fragments of time spinning,
eluding recollection and obscurity)

If we did not meet in snow sometimes
(that year we continued to be alive--
despite the institutions, programs,
degrees, corporations and industries)

I would have never realized that movement
inside my (poetry) mind


If we hadn't realized some of the poetry
in my mind stumbling
from the red photograph
taken by the girl in the sheer dress
who appears to be a phantom running away
in the dreamscape of your
kodachrome soul

I would
have
never