Black Ice

I took the bus down Barthust Street and saw where

all the lonely people meet down there

I sat on a pile of cigarettes and blew

icicles with one sharp breath towards you

There's black ice,

no sign

Temper me and temper this, I've tried

to fit in everything in a small time

The winter brings a heaviness, this weight

is a hand over the things I shouldn't say

There's black ice,

no sign