Snow [cocaine]

In the evenings I can smell your reeking snow
Cascading onto a vacant void of consciousness,
Existing secretly within a desolate forest,
It melts into rain and you feel alive.

Reason fries like a raisin in the sun
Infringing on your white voice, ripe now with anguish.
Your remedy is faultless and loud like thunder:
Self-inflicted vibrancy on a cotton-picked field.

It’s as a current of dust-bowl ripping through the air
Blending your surroundings into a cacophony of noise,
Lightening life’s weight with which gravity reproaches you
Creating purpose for your eyelashes which clump and molt.

When the voices cease to exist
When the men no longer listen
When your mouth can no longer conjure up
words which your brain sees in pictures
When the earth is hot and dry
When the silence begins to kill you
Let the snowflakes rob the calm
And free yourself for them to fill you.