That’s preposterous

Everyone knows that there are only four

I can name them for you

Winter

Spring

Summer

and Fall

That is all

 

It’s real

 

What would the weather be like, then?

 

The weather does not matter

It is like all of those you’ve named

and none of them

at once

a season out of time

 

It is the connective tissue

the intricate knitting that holds the

whole thing together

the spoke and the wheel

 

How can you know?

 

Because of the sudden teeming on my skin

the alertness of the hairs at the back of my neck

 

Because my totality cannot be hewn

down into only four parts

 

I know it is true because of the contradictions

I am able to contain