Could it be
Could it be as if
Wanting wanting too much
Not watching wanting to be
Weather or not whether
We’re here
Should you have here have this this
Turning as you do the air
Nothing no one here willfully blunts
Falling wholly without
The branches of it tour of space reaching
Though a window through one
Elbows never will do
A sort of cupping a cup
How this thing can it ever be ever see
Ever see this something said
A landscape blanches and crouches
Catches in its sifting
The sun as white as you are
It can’t sieve the necessary
Falling wholly without
Who without means means so much
Snow prospers somehow
It is as as is
Somehow it can kind itself can be
The where of it somewhere better than
What was to open the counter
Wandering the pace it becomes better near
Nor bright in itself
Imagine the crisp drifts happening to
Something sunders something is under all
Which can’t come back ever
Or close the image or its sort of seizure