Life is colder but lengthens
every time we travel west.
With a little water, I swallow a cup of salt:
the sea never freezes.
The machine needs me inside
to keep it warm with meaning
but the start of this day
is a teardop across the window.
As if to embrace a circular saw
we now head straight into the sun.
And I hope I can stay numb
before its teeth sink into the metal.