winter 7

winter notes 

ellie epp




because wherever they are i am somewhere too




in a sound i then made & watched over           saw its stream narrow & widen


in the sound realizing she was in the sound alone & possibly not



listening to anyone, the sorts of systems that were listening


the series of unfinished barely begun glimpsed guessed structures     mistakes     disjunct images        the other interpolated    hit    missed    & in a stream of work



the heating of water for a bath, the folding & hanging of a garment before going to sleep


juicy & fresh water smell is it ovulation



black and white rain



when it squeezed down under the door the little instant of its body



old thin woman in a knitted cap smiling at the chill, raised her red umbrella over her lap



sitting across from the strength of her eyes



i'm a minute looking and then believe maybe she means what i see           then the little smile, whose quality -



when the mischief face lay under me asking for  -  it  -  maybe



the currency of your primal



his dark red sweater



i was entrusted to his sense of movement, my love was for its quality