Meeting at the end of the world

I met a girl at the end of a season.
Snow started to fall a few days after.
Few times I've seen her eyes.
Fewer songs I've heard been sung,
lately.. ain't nobody got time fo that.

Even my poetry is lame.
And I find myself not
in the mood to rearticulate.
I feel as if all the framework
is falling apart.

Days and nights and
temptations hold
little and littler
power.

Snow will fall and so will I.
Remembering things in my own way.
Forgetting them together with you.

Maybe now, time is not so much about learning
as it is about forgetting.

Forgetting frameworks.
Falling.
Breaking.
Pleasing none.

Scattering across the endless wastes of now
the boundless substance that is life.