Simple needles are all that remain when
The numbing influence melts my
Hearing of the times;
When I tried to remember the storm, it fell
Through the slips of my conscious surrender.

It was of a dampened like, fingering the electrical,
Damaged, swerving power lines that shrieked
Color into what otherwise would be
Feet upon foot, foot upon land;
When I step on the snow, no longer should I stand.

The retention of the redness brought upon my skin;
A nervous retardation of eurythermous blush.
It stood in the wafers of sheets of clear, that which
Driving upon would cause to be crushed.

The accidental nature of signaling yellow
When deciding to brake on the hazardous road;
Why, to speak of
Unconscious dedition
Do I feel like I'm floating
Cross sublime submission?