out past beyond the field inside the birches under rising steam a small room to prove i don t exist to show that i am beyond this animal form and this lost mind or am i the wood heats up and cracks and pulls apart the way a body groans i transform and the stars show i don t think the world still exists only this room in the snow and the light from coals and only this breath i annihilate all sensation and with the glowing core exposed head first into the frozen lake in rain and wind and blanketing night standing under steam rising my life is a small fire i carry around glowing coals on the wet ground