And then love´s vertigo,

How Snow Falls
 -Craig Raine
 
Like the unshaven prickle
of a sharpened razor,
 
this new coldness in the air,
the pang
 
of something intagible,
Filling our eyes,
 
the sinusitis of perfume
without the perfume.
 
And then love´s vertigo,
love´s exactitude,
 
this snow, this transfiguration
we never quite get over.
 
 
( publicado em Granta - The magazine of new writing, 100, Winter, 2007, p 51)