Wrap winter around my lips, let me
hang off your teeth like an unkissed
thread that has fallen asleep, no longer
warming your veins the way I do.
I keep time for you because too often you
tie the noose around January, and each
breath I catch for you--foggy and of day
old peonies--simply curls into a corner
and shuts the lights off.
Stop sitting on my tongue, claim me
instead of these flames that threaten to
scar the places I stopped loving myself.
Be my blues, my January that I can
keep wearing whenever we wake up
after another swig, after another stereo
has walked away.
After another reason for love has
killed itself in loud desperation.
-
Written December 23, 2014
Entry for Britt's 3- letter challenge. She gave me the title and the category was love.
