sheets of ice are being blown off the roof and at first there is no way to identify the sound — there is no way to know what this sounds is or what is does to me only that is reflects something metal and sharp and scraping i am sleeping in an apartment building that i’ve never been in before and the rooms are all furnished with white things i don’t understand the white things the ice is white but not the same shade — my heart is not mine — it is mine its just not telling me of my own experience this time. it tries to shake me it reminds me of what it feels like to exit slowly though the body of another i once loved — the song from the player is wrong the numbered tracks are out of order i can hear them play out in my sleep ice sheets raking the inside of me