For our special blizzard-impacted issue, we asked the community for wide-ranging responses to a general question: “Where is Buffalo now?” Below is one such submission. 

frostbite as poem

i am whole but the body always remembers

what it means to be incomplete

and no amount of snow can cushion

the blow of yourself

and the lost fragments

they expect you to find.

there is always the promise of new body

until you forget what it means to heal

and you lose who you were

under possession of wind

under guise of storm

that assures rebirth.

maybe adam was a piece of our breastbone

and this blizzard is how we forget

covering lies which cover truth which cover

you and the voice you forgot you had and

the voice i forgot i had

swept away as a whisper by tempest’s hands.