december legs


Lace-edged panties
Fit just right
And we string gaudy lights along the Douglas fir
Artificially glowing
And aged,
Your legs tight for miles and your laugh like bells while
Through wine-stained teeth we exchange ghosts.
Our stockings rub soft beneath the covers
And against one another
We lay the past down
Like men beneath the bounce of breasts,
You, gasping mouth hot against
And I, always searching
Beyond the dawn
The birds cease chirping,
Some unspeakable heat that rises in winter
Claims each quick breath as its own
You convulse beneath
Skin slick and blood of rose oil
Shaking so thickly through
Doll hands and dark eyes like glass,
Your chaste highlands curve wild
Rounded nipples and such limbs,
Unshaven still smooth
And soaking
Upon the stretch of coarse quilt and
Under torn Japanese lanterns.
The tamales grow cold in the fridge and
The dogs lie uneasily at our feet,
Tuned and unblinking
Toward the muffled cries.